


A Dreamers Dream

by Choose_Love_H_S



Category: Fanfiction - Fandom, Harry Styles - Fandom, Jeff Azoff - Fandom, Music - Fandom, One Direction, mitch rowland - Fandom, touring - Fandom
Genre: 1d, F/M, Fanfiction, Friendship, Funny, Harry Styles - Freeform, Love, Music, Romance, Singing, Tour, jeff azoff - Freeform, one direction - Freeform, world tour
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-06
Updated: 2018-10-01
Packaged: 2019-06-06 05:39:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 27
Words: 68,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15187997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Choose_Love_H_S/pseuds/Choose_Love_H_S
Summary: For as long as she can remember, Maddie Graham has had only one dream, to stand on a stage, facing an adoring crowd and sing the songs she has spent years penning alone in her bedroom with only her guitar for company.Tired of taking the same old gigs in the same old venues, Maddie lands a job working on Harry Styles' world tour. Only to find an all new dream in the form of the tall, green eyed man that graces the stage each night. What will she do when the spot light finally comes calling just for her? That's everything she has always wanted, isn't it?Two dreams, one girl and an impossible choice to make.





	1. Birmingham, England part one

Gunning it down the M40 just after lunch the following day, I'm glad I had the forethought to cut myself off the wine after Michael told me about the interview today, but not gonna lie, a large glass of Chardonnay would do wonders for my nerves right now. 

Despite Lillie's attempts to piss me off last night, the party was a rousing success! I even got the joy of witnessing one of her many children puking what looked like luminous pink bile all over her prissy purple dress after he accidentally got a hold of one of the vodka jellies, undoubtedly my highlight. All kidding aside though, mum and dad had a great time and that was the main thing, I could have lived without the rousing rendition of 'I got you babe' that they decided to put on after a few too many drinks whilst groping at each other like teenagers on the small stage, seriously, no child needs to see her parents behaving that way. On a plus side, I did manage to capture it all on video, so that'll be a lovely treat to embarrass them with at the next family shindig. I finally fell into bed at around 3 this morning, after quickly tearing down all the decorations and popping the huge piles of peach and cream balloons with a steak knife which was quite therapeutic actually, maybe I'll swap my weekly attempts at yoga, which mostly end with me falling flat on my face whilst trying to do some kind of downward dog pose, for balloon popping in future. 

It's now 1 pm and I have 3 hours to get my arse to the Genting Arena in Birmingham, find Clark, and prepare myself for this interview. I'm practically positive I don't have half of what I need with me if I do manage to get this job and need to be ready to jet off around the planet though, I threw a few sets of underwear into my suitcase this morning along with a couple of pairs of jeans and a few random T-shirts, oh! and a couple of dresses are lying on the back seats too, a product of an afterthought as I was running out the door this morning, just in case I need to look a bit more presentable at any point. Whilst gulping down a lukewarm cup of tea that I kept forgetting about whilst I was packing, I quickly downloaded Harry Styles album to my phone and hit the road after a rather large fry up, which I had hoped would settle the swarm of butterflies floating about in my stomach, but so far, no such luck. 

I've got to admit, this guys album is astounding, and nothing like I expected. I can't say I really know much about Harry Styles, or any of the One Direction boys for that matter, having always been more of a rock music fan than a pop one. But his album has a bit of everything on it and it's certainly feeding my inner rock chick who's happily being reminded of some of her all-time favourite bands as I bop along in my seat. There are some real rock anthems on it, not least a track called Sign of the Times, which I listened to once, then immediately repeated as I couldn't get my head around the idea that this was written and performed by the curly-headed little boy I remember watching on Xfactor years ago, crooning Stevie Wonders 'Isn't she lovely' and winning everyone over with his cheeky smile. 

The album is peppered with a mixture of ballads and a couple of really energetic numbers, like Only Angel and Kiwi that both have me bouncing around in my chair, garnering some rather bizarre looks from the traffic flowing along beside me as I make my way down the motorway. Although why on earth he called a song about some chick having a baby 'Kiwi' I'll never know. Maybe I'll ask him if I'm ever in a position to. As the closing track to his debut flows through the car speakers, I almost manage to forget for a moment that I am doing 70mph in the fast lane as his deep, melodic, soothing voice almost whispers the heart-wrenchingly honest lyrics, that's got to take some balls to sing live, I think to myself as I finally see a sign that reads 'Birmingham 35 miles' and restart the album for one final listen before I reach my destination. 

Pulling up into the arena parking lot is a surreal experience. Even though the doors aren't scheduled to open for another three and half hours, the car part is already jam-packed with vehicles of all shapes and sizes. I spot several groups of young women, probably a little younger than me but not by much, changing into the merchandise emblazoned with Harry's face and some kind of motto in the shadows behind their cars, a couple of really bored looking dads who look like they'd rather be getting their toenails pulled out one by one than tolerating the ear-splitting screams of their kids as they battle with them to just stay in the car so they can hop out and have a cigarette in peace. And one particularly harassed looking mum dragging her feet behind two teenage girls who are berating her for getting them here so late... late? It's barely 3 pm! But as I round a corner I suddenly understand. Outside the entrance to the arena is a large row of dis-guarded camping tents, whilst a few feet away in a barricaded queue line, several hundred of Harry's die-hard fans lounge about the ground, all snuggled up in their fluffy white duvets, playing songs from his album and One Directions back catalogue on their phones and screaming the lyrics at the top of their lungs. 

I've never really 'got' fan culture.. sure there are artists that I absolutely adore, and I've been to more than my fair share of concerts, but I've never felt the need to know what that artist is up to once they leave the stage, who they're sleeping with, what car they drive, what their favourite hobby is are just things that have never interested me. The only thing I ever really pay any attention to is the music and the lyrics. I wonder if that's some weird deep subconscious idea that if I give these people their privacy now, the gods might smile down on me and allow me the same level of respect if/when I ever get my big break, fairly certain I'd prefer it if everyone around me didn't know every single detail of my personal life, but I guess, for someone like Harry, who's been in the public eye since he was spotty teen, that ship has long since sailed. 

“Well look at you all grown up!” Clarks'' voice calls out to me from behind my shoulder, evidently, he has come out of some hidden side door somewhere as there's no way he'd make it past the throngs of women at the entrance

“I know, I know, I got old! Amazing isn't it?” I say dryly as we greet each other in an awkward one-armed hug. Clark is one of my brothers oldest friends, he's known me pretty much since the day I was born and, along with all my brothers other mates, he still views me as the little 10-year-old with her long blonde pigtails, begging them to take me with them when they headed off to the local park. Michael later explained to me that, rather than play on the swings, which I had assumed was their reason for hanging out there as, next to my guitar, swings were my life at that age, that their park trips generally consisted of smoking weed in the corner of a field whilst they passed around cheap cans of white lightning and someone threw up in a bush. This slightly dampened the resentment I had felt all those years when I thought he was making me stay home just because he was embarrassed by me, but only slightly, as I still could have swung whilst they got stoned, I wouldn't have cared, or even realised what they were up to as long as I got to swing. Last time I saw Clark was at Michael's thirtieth birthday party over three years ago now, but it's hardly like I was still a child then, I'd long since grown out of my pigtails. 

“You ready for this?” Clark asks me conspiratorially as he leads me around the back of the giant arena towards a nondescript metal door that has 'Staff only' written on it in thick black ink. 

“Given that I've had less than 24 hours to prepare for what could be a life-changing job interview.. I'm gonna  
go with no.” I tease him as we make our way down a thin darkened corridor and into the main arena where a huge amount of people are rushing back and forth putting together what looks to be an enormous circular stage, complete with matching hanging screen above at one end of the arena and a smaller square stage further back. He leads me up what feels like a hundred flights of stairs to my tired legs which still haven't quite straightened out after the two and a half hour drive up from Surrey, and up into the nosebleed section before plonking himself down heavily on one of the soft folding seats and throwing his feet up on to the one in front of him casually crossing his ankles. 

Mirroring his actions, I take a seat beside him and greedily sip on the extra large latte I picked up at Starbucks on my way in here as I try and take in my surroundings. I've been in plenty of arenas, in fact, I was lucky enough to watch The Eagles in this very arena back in 2014, but I've never been in one that's still being set up for a show and I am utterly entranced watching the tiny little figures rushing back and forth below me, their arms full of wires and duct tape and what I assume to be large pieces of the stage being supported between several people and screwed tightly into place. 

“You'll be 'right” Clark says giving me a reassuring pat on the thigh “You'll be meeting with Paul, he's the tour manager and an all round good bloke, just convince him your a hard worker who's not afraid to get her hands dirty or break a nail and he'll snatch you up, they really are desperate!” Clark continues and I shoot him a withering look 

“Gee thanks..” I say sarcastically, although I suppose I shouldn't complain if they are desperate enough to take on the skinny girl with no upper body strength to speak of and absolutely zero experience in this crazy world of theirs 

“Ahh, you know what I mean. Anyways Paul'll be easy enough. Jeff, on the other hand, might be a bit harder to win over, do yourself, and me a favour and don't mention that you're a singer, if Jeff gets even a whiff of the idea that you might be hoping to further your own career by working with us, you'll be back in Surrey before you can sneeze” 

“Good to know. But my CV has next to nothing on it barring singing gigs.. there was that summer I spent working in Greggs.. but that's kinda it” I tell Clark, which seems to amuse him as he lets out a loud booming laugh which carries easily across the empty arena and causes more than one head to snap up and search for the source of the sound. 

“Paul loves Greggs, it's his kryptonite, should have told you to bring him a Steak Bake or a yum yum, he'd have been putty in your hands” Clark says, throwing a quick glance at my small hands, with their slightly chipped bright pink nails left over from the my gig on Friday night and raising an eyebrow “You aren't afraid to break a nail right?” he asks so sincerely that I let out my own, much quieter giggle 

“God no!” I say, bending back one of the press on nails until the glue peels away and it pops off my finger, I raise my hand in front of his face and wave my bare nail around so he can see that it's bitten to the quick and there's really nothing of it for me to break 

“Ahh good girl, had me worried for a minute there!” He smiles back happily

“And I suppose I could have stopped off and picked up a pasty on my way here if you'd told me, but it's been like... five years since I worked there,” I tell him, surprising myself, wow has it really been that long since I had a regular job? I wonder how I'll cope with having to answer to the other more senior crew members and work more normal hours. Being self-employed certainly has its perks one of which being that I rarely work for longer than a couple of hours a night, unless you count the travelling of course, which somehow, no one ever does. 

Clark raises his fingers to his temple in a weird kind of salute to some guy with an immensely long and thick ginger beard who's staring up at us from near the sound engineers desk and is clearly trying to get his attention, before struggling to his feet. 

“Duty calls. Honestly kiddo, you'll do right. C'mon, it's nearly four. Let's take you backstage” He says and starts to wind his way back down the hundreds of stairs, off in search of these men I need to somehow impress if I want to become part of this world.


	2. Surrey- England

“Happy anniversary!” I say cheerfully to my parents, greeting them both with a big hug as Michael leads them into the church hall. Mum greets me with a knowing smile but my dad, as I suspected is totally caught off guard

“This is... I don't know what to say, Maddie.. did you two do all of this?” He asks me, tears glistening in his faded blue eyes as he holds me at arms length and surveys the room around us, seems he's getting emotional in his old age I think as I take in his greying hair and the deep lines crisscrossing his cheeks, I really should make more time to spend with both my parents, they aren't getting any younger.

“My goodness isn't this something” My mum chimes in, sensing my discomfort at seeing my dad overwhelmed and trying to distract me “You even followed our wedding colour scheme! Aren't you a peach” She laughs heartily at her own joke as she takes in the multitudes of peach coloured balloons and decorations that I have spent most of the afternoon painstakingly hanging around the venue. 

“We wanted you to have a night to remember, 40 years is an amazing milestone!” I tell them, taking my mum by the hand and leading her towards the mini version of their wedding cake that my clever cousin Amelia has spent the last week perfecting, the two-tiered beauty may not be quite as grand as the three-tiered one they had 40 years ago,  
but it's still stunning to me, Vanilla sponge with white fondant icing and simply decorated with freshly piped peach roses which tumble artfully down the side. This final touch seems to open up my mums floodgates this time as opposed to dads, and she flings her arms out and embraces my brother and me in one huge family hug, our faces ending up uncomfortably squished together as my dad joins the moment of affection, wrapping his long arms around mum from behind and managing to just about touch a part of each of us in the process. 

Thankfully after this little display both my parents seem to calm down a bit. They are so happily engrossed in catching up with old friends and family “You even brought Auntie Rena!” my dad had exclaimed as he caught sight of his mothers sister sitting at a corner table, her walking stick propped up against the wall behind her, that I am able to slip off and help myself to a rather large glass of well earned white wine without anyone calling me away. Everything seems to be going exactly to plan and as pleased as I am that we managed to pull this off, I can't help feeling slightly forlorn at the sight of all the couples surrounding me. Even my baby cousin Clara, who is only just 19, recently announced her engagement to her high school sweetheart and is excitedly showing off her ring to anyone and everyone who dares to walk within a 2 metre radius of her table, I make sure to give them an extra wide berth as I go in search of my second glass of wine. 

I guess now is as good a time as any to make a little confession as I look around at the assembled guests and over to my parents who are gazing at each other with a look of pure adoration, my confession is, I have never been in anything even closely resembling a long-term relationship. I've had boyfriends, sure, probably more than I should have done really, especially in my teen years when I was rather more 'free' with my favours than I'd ever admitted to my parents, but they've always taken a back seat to my dreams of stardom and as I travel so much, maintaining a relationship for anything more than a few weeks has seemed practically impossible. As soon as I start feeling something for a guy that makes me debate cancelling a gig in order to spend more time with him, I break it off. 

So as much as I can recognise the look of love in the eyes of the multitudes of couples slow dancing to my mum and dads wedding song in the middle of the large dance floor, it's not something I've ever felt myself. 

It's not that I don't want to find love someday, of course, I do, a nice good looking husband and a couple of cute fat babies sounds wonderful! Just, not right now, I have other things to achieve first. My first ever singing teacher once told me that if I really wanted to make a go of this, if I truly wanted to succeed and have a career in the music business, I would have to make a lot of sacrifices along the way and she was right. Looking back, she probably wasn't the best person to have taken life advice from, given that she was in her late 60's when I was having lessons with her and the closest thing she'd ever had to a loving man in her life was her cat Perkins.. but hindsight is a wonderful thing, it gives us the 20/20 vision we can only dream of having in the moment. 

“Matilda, darling, it's so wonderful to see you” My eldest cousin Lillie calls to me as I wander past her table in search of another glass of wine, ahh I am not nearly drunk enough to deal with this I think to myself as I slow my steps and come to a stop next to her. 

“Lillie, you look great! How are you?” I ask politely, glancing pointedly at the large baby bump straining against her too tight purple satin dress, which clashes horribly with the peach table decorations... no doubt that'll be my fault for not telling her the colour scheme ahead of time. Lillie is a bit of an enigma to me, at 24 she is only 2 years my senior but from the way she behaves, you'd think there were at least 20 years separating us. Sitting next to her husband Philip, she uses one hand to absent-mindedly push a buggy back and forth in a pitiful attempt to settle one of her many children as it wails it's little bright red face off at a migraine-inducing volume. I'd love to tell you the kids name.. but as the baby bump Lillie is proudly sporting represents baby number five, I've got to admit I've totally lost track of them all at this point. 

“Thank you” Lillie replies beaming up at me with a knowing smile and rubbing her large stomach “You're looking tired. Will you be gracing us with one of your little songs tonight?” She asks me with a sideways glance over to Philip who winks at her conspiratorially and I have to resist the urge to stick my tongue out at her. 

“No, not tonight. Tonight is all about mum and dad” I tell her in a tone that comes out a little more harshly than I intend. 

“Probably for the best I think, I don't suppose this is quite the right audience for the kinds of things you do” Lillie smirks, I'm a bloody singer, not a stripper you conceited hag. “Still no boyfriend I see?” she continues looking around behind me and pretending to look shocked that there is no house-broken male trailing along in my wake, the way that her husband does in hers. 

I know she's trying to get a rise out of me, and I desperately want to be the bigger person here, but I seem to have reached my bullshit limit for this evening and I can't help but blurt out “Nope! Probably a good thing too really, considering you and Philip are single-handedly trying to repopulate the world. We wouldn't want to cause a local food shortage now would we?” Smiling serenely down at her on her lower position on the chair, I watch her jaw drop open as she struggles to comprehend what I've just said, but before she can retort, I feel a strong hand wrap around my elbow. 

“Maddie there you are! I've been looking for you everywhere” Michael interrupts us “Sorry Lillie, I'm going to have to steal my sister away, catering emergency” He says politely as he steers me out towards the small kitchen at the back of the hall. 

“What was all that about?” he asks me as soon as the door is closed firmly behind us. 

Hopping up on to one of the countertops, I grab a small triangular cucumber sandwich from a nearby tray and pop the whole thing into my mouth, chewing as I respond “Urgh I just can't seem to help myself around her! Her and her bloody holier than though attitude, she's just so... so...” I trailed off unable to find the word I am looking for to adequately describe my cousin. 

“Superior?” Michael supplies helpfully and I give him a firm nod. 

“Yes! Superior!! Just because I'm not treating my lady parts like a bloody water flume doesn't mean she's any better than I am!” I say loudly, hopping down off the counter and beginning to pace around in the small space, shovelling another cucumber sandwich into my mouth. 

“You can't let her get to you Mads. You know she's just looking for a reaction.” Michael says calmly, and, not for the first time, I am grateful for my big brothers' steadfast level-headedness. 

“I know, I know. Thanks for saving me” I say sincerely 

“It's what I do” He replies nonchalantly with a shrug of his broad shoulders. 

Despite the fact that he is 11 years older than me, Michael and I have always been closer than most of my friends are with their siblings, He was always the one who checked for monsters under my bed when I was little and made sure my bedroom door was open just enough that I could still see a stream of light shining through from the hallway when I went through a phase of being scared of the dark. As we've gotten older, he's been unwaveringly supportive of me and my ambitions, driving me all over the country to singing lessons, gigs and auditions and meetings with record labels. He's spent way more time than any self-respecting man really should sitting outside ladies dressing rooms watching me try on outfit after outfit in an attempt to find the exact right one for my next show. He's kind and considerate and clever, and I'd be lost without him. 

“When I grow up I want to be just like you,” I tell him as I stretch up on my tiptoes to kiss his cheek.

“Ha! No, you don't Mads, but if you really wanna thank me, just buy me a nice mansion when you finally hit the big time ok?” he teases me and a wave of melancholy sweeps over me and I avert my eyes from his.

Running my fingers along the faded blue countertops as I reply “Maybe don't hold your breath. That meeting I went to last week came to nothing, as usual. Maybe it's time I got myself a proper job” I mumble. 

I don't generally permit myself to feel self-pity, I've always been more of a glass is half full kind of girl, truly believing that my big break is just around the corner, but over the past year or so, I've started to have doubts. Most singers are well established by the time they hit my age, another year or two and I'll be way past my prime and no one will even agree to meet with me any more. 

“Hmm well, I may have just the thing to help you..” Michael says from over my shoulder “You know I told you that my mate Clark is working as an engineer on that Harry Styles blokes world tour?” 

“Yeah, I remember,” I say quietly to a cupboard as I start to pick at the chipped paint around its edges

“Well, he called me last night. And it turns out they've lost a couple of crew in the last couple of weeks, seems these two crew members decided to mix business with pleasure and when they broke up, well lets just say things got nasty.” he tells me, he's always been the biggest gossip I think as I raise an eyebrow at him and wait for him to reach his point “So Clark called me, asking if I might know anyone who might want a couple of months work... and well.. I recommended you” 

“What?” I almost shout at my brother in my excitement, spinning around to face  
him so fast that I nearly lose my balance and have to grab on to his arm to stop myself toppling over “You got me a job on a world tour??!!”

“Hey hey, don't count your chickens yet. I got you an interview on a world tour. Not a job. And, it's nothing glamorous I'm afraid, you'd basically just be a general dogsbody.. carrying out whatever tasks happen to need doing at that moment, but the pays not bad and they cover all the travel costs and that” 

“You are the best brother in the world!!” I cry throwing my arms around his neck a little too exuberantly and he has to loosen my grip in order to breathe “Whens the interview?” I ask him bouncing up and down slightly on the balls of my feet unable to stay still. 

“See now, that's the only problem, it's tomorrow.. in Birmingham...” 

“What!” I cry out again, “How on earth am I going to manage that?” I ask him hanging my head slightly in disappointment as the wind drops out of my sails as I realise the impossibility of the situation.

“I know, it sucks, but he has a show in Birmingham tomorrow night and they really do need someone to start straight away. So I told them you'd meet them at the arena at 4 pm. Clark will meet you outside and take you in to see the tour manager, Paul and some guy called Jeff, he'll put in a good word for you, and, if they think you're right for it, you'll start work straight away” Michael tells me elaborating on this very well thought out plan of his, but I can see a couple of small flaws..

“But.. how on earth am I supposed to get to Birmingham by 4 pm tomorrow? Not to mention potentially be prepared to join a world tour and jet off all over the place once I get there? Who's gonna feed my fish?” I ask him somewhat manically my voice coming out a few octaves higher than usual 

“I will, as always. You'll figure it out kiddo I'm sure. Now, why don't we go tell Mum and Dad?” he says calmly, throwing an arm around my shoulders and leading me back inside the main hall.


	3. Birmingham, England part two

It's just an interview. They're just people. Sure they may have more glamorous jobs than you do and more money in their bank accounts, which let's face it isn't hard, no ones getting rich from playing the holiday camp and social club circuit. But they are still just people. I tell myself firmly as I follow Clark through the maze of hallways that make up the backstage area of the Genting Arena in Birmingham. 

I'm not generally the kind of person who gets nervous.. pops me on a stage in front of a crowd and I'll happily chatter away and sing my little heart out, but a job like this really could be life-changing for me if I play it right. Not only would I get to travel around the world, make new friends and experience new cultures, but someone like Harry is bound to have an awful lot of big names attending his shows, other musicians, record executives, managers... if I can just introduce myself to the right people.. slide my demo into the right person's email inbox.. I might, possibly, with a bit of luck, finally be able to crack into this business they call show, and that on its own is enough to make my palms sweat and my heart beat just a little faster against my rib cage than usual. 

Squaring my shoulders, I take a deep breath and stand at Clark's side as he knocks lightly on an orange-tinted heavy wooden door, a small laminated piece of paper that has been stuck to the outside with blue tack reads “Paul – Tour Manager” in black ink. 

“Come in” Calls a gruff voice from inside the room and Clark grasps the handle and pushes open the door. 

“Alright, Paul! This is Matilda, the girl I was telling you about” He says formally, as he roughly shakes Paul's hand. There is no sign of another man in the large magnolia rectangular room, I guess Jeff must be running late I assume as I step forward and shake Paul's hand in turn. 

“It's just Maddie, the only person who ever calls me Matilda is my Mum and that's only if I've done something seriously wrong” I joke, trying to lighten the mood from the get-go and put across an image of being easy going and fun, I'm sure they don't want a load of miserable bastards on the crew. They all live and work so closely together whilst the tour is on that I'm assuming personality is nearly as important as skill, if not more so when you're applying for the position of 'General Dogsbody'. 

“Maddie, great to meet you! Please sit down” Paul says gesturing to a large black leather sofa which is pushed up against the far wall of the office opposite a couple of matching armchairs and making up a small seating area around a low mahogany coffee table which is strewn with various pieces of important looking paper. I take a seat and try to make myself comfortable perched on the edge of the deep sofa with my legs crossed demurely in front of me. 

“I'll leave you guys to it,” Clark says with a nod to Paul and a quick wink to me as he turns and exits the room, closing the heavy wooden door behind us and trapping me in the windowless room with Paul. 

“Would you like a drink Maddie? Tea? Coffee? Water? Jeff will be with us in a few moments, he's just having a word with Harry” Paul informs me as he walks over to a high table in the corner which holds a kettle, a large collection of various tea bags and a coffee machine. One of those fancy water dispensers they have in offices and posh hotel lobbies stands next to it with a stack of plastic cups. 

“Water would be lovely, thank you” I respond and he quickly fills a plastic cup and hands it to me. 

“Thanks for coming up at such short notice, I assume Clark told you we're in a bit of a bind? Did you bring your CV?” 

“He did mention that you were in rather a hurry to fill the positions yes,” I tell Paul not wanting to let on just how much Clark told Michael, and he subsequently told me, in case I get him into trouble for gossiping. Fishing my, rather hastily put together Curriculum Vitae from my tiny handbag, I attempt to smooth out the folded paper and pass it over to him with a smile “I know it's a little sparse..” I say quickly glancing at the pieces of paper that list my previous employment and education information, which basically consists of my GCSE and A Level results, my time at Greggs and a list of a few of the long-standing music gigs I have done. “But I can assure you I am a very hard worker. and I'm eager to learn. I can follow instructions well, I put together all the flat pack furniture in my flat all by myself” I giggle, flashing him another smile and trying to look capable, whatever that means. 

“You've never worked on something like this before? No experience working at any large venues or anything like that?” Paul asks and my heart sinks, of course, they'd want someone who had at least an idea of how things like this are run. I'd imagine setting up and dismantling a full arena tour day in day out is very carefully scheduled and everyone has to play their part at the exact right moment to ensure everything runs like clockwork.

“Well, erm, not exactly no. But I have worked in some venues where I've had to set up my own makeshift stages” I giggle, nervous again now, my plastic cup is sliding slightly in my sweaty hand. It's the condensation. I tell myself firmly and place it on the table, trying to wipe my palms slightly on my jeans as I sit up straighter in my seat. 

Paul nods firmly, and I can't see any trace of amusement on his features as his eyes run over the paper in his hands. The silence  
in the room is deafening for a moment until suddenly, the door crashes open, hitting the wall behind it with a thud as a tallish man, with short dark hair and a wide nose wanders into the room and sticks his hand out in my general direction as he leans over the coffee table between us. 

“Hi, I'm Jeff,” He says in an American accent as I half stand to awkwardly reach across and shake his hand before he takes the seat opposite me. I can't help but notice that as Jeff's attention is focused on me, Paul slides my CV down the side of his chair and on to the floor out of sight. 

“Maddie” I introduce myself to Jeff. 

“So, Maddie, you understand that this isn't a very glamorous position we're offering here right?” Paul says as Jeff makes himself comfortable “You'd be expected to basically pick up any and all tasks that are requested of you by the other members of the crew, this could be anything from helping move equipment, securing wiring, putting up or taking down the barricades, to placing water bottles on the stage for the artists to something as simple as running to fetch a spare guitar pic from someone's dressing room mid-set?” Paul continues as Jeff sits looking more interested in the large Styrofoam cup in his hands than he does me. 

“Yes I understand” I respond as Paul continues

“We all have to work very hard here to ensure that things run smoothly, The stage has to be set up by 6 pm at the latest every evening and ready for the opening act. After that there is a quick hand over before H goes on where we swap out everyone's instruments, then most venues like for us to be completely packed up and out again by 3 am.” 

Nodding again I clear my dry throat before attempting to speak “I'm very good at working in a team to a schedule” I bluff, having no real idea if I am any good at working in a team at all having never really been in a position to find out. “And I'm a night owl, so the 3 am finishes won't be an issue for me,” I tell him

Paul seems somewhat reassured by this and we chat for a few more minutes, with Jeff throwing in the occasional question or comment along the way, as Paul tells me more of what would be expected of me. Michael was right when he said I'd be a dogsbody, but there are certainly plenty of perks as well, and I am pleasantly surprised when Paul tells me the pay structure, it's a fair bit more than I could currently hope to earn, even if I did two gigs every night, seven days a week. 

After the first few initial questions, Paul starts to relax a bit and seems much more like the man I was expecting from the description that Clark gave me earlier, he is calm and laid back, and whilst I am sure he can rule with an iron fist when he needs to, he wouldn't be a tour manager if he couldn't, he has a warm smile and a welcoming feel to him. 

“Are you familiar with Harry's music?” Jeff suddenly asks me with a raised eyebrow, cutting into Paul's question about my familiarity with travelling long distances and my nerves return as I meet his unwavering gaze 

“Erm, well, honestly? I only downloaded his album this morning after I found out about this interview. But I really liked it” I tell him, slightly embarrassed, is it going to work against me that I barely know anything at all about the star of the show? 

“What about his past albums, with the band?” Jeff asks quickly, his eyes boring into mine as if searching for some sign of dishonesty but giving nothing away himself.

I feel myself turning slightly pink as I answer him “I'm sorry to say I don't really know much about them, I mean, I know their big hits, what makes you beautiful, steal my girl, drag me down and all that. But I'm kind of more of a Rock girl... I can't say I've listened to much of their music” 

“Good” Jeff surprises me by saying and I can't help the look of shock that crosses my face, I thought I'd blown it for sure. “We need hard workers here Maddie, not fan girls desperately trying to get up close and personal with H by bagging a job on his tour” He says by way of explanation and it suddenly makes sense, whilst I know very little about One Direction, it was hard to miss the hysteria that surrounded them, I made the mistake of trying to get into a shopping centre once, where they were doing some kind of book signing, and the shear amount of screaming girls there made me wonder if any of the schools in the surrounding areas had any female students in class that day. 

“I see, well I can assure you I'm not looking to get up close and personal with anyone. Harry or otherwise” I attempt to reassure him, it must be an absolute minefield trying to navigate around who can or cannot be trusted around his client and I'm sure most of the people that come through here are subject to the same scrutiny so I don't take it personally. 

“Could you excuse us for a moment?” Jeff says politely as he gets to his feet and starts to wander towards the door, gesturing for Paul to follow behind him. They step outside, closing the door behind them and leaving me alone on my perch on the couch. I decide to take this moment to gulp down my water to ease my perpetually dry throat and refill my cup as I try not to listen to their muffled voices outside the door. I think the interview has gone ok... I mean, I'm pretty sure I convinced them I'm not some sex-crazed fan girl just wanting a chance with Harry, or H as they seem to prefer to call him, and I even managed to make Paul laugh once or twice.. but my obvious lack of any experience has got to be a serious red flag for them. 

I take my phone out of my bag and decide to send Michael a quick text to update him as I wait for Jeff and Paul to reappear. 

“Haven't managed to spill my drink over either of them or make a complete twat out of myself as yet. They've stepped outside to deliberate over my worthiness to join their little family... I'll call you once I know more xoxo” 

Just as I am attempting to shove my phone back into my bag, Jeff and Paul reappear and I see Paul glance at the clearly visible case in my hand as I try and force my phone back into the tiny clutch bag that I thought looked more professional for this interview but is really just an utterly useless ornament, nothing bloody fits in the damn thing and he raises an eyebrow at me. 

“Aerosmith?” He asks, nodding towards the case which has a rather obvious picture of the bands' logo emblazoned across it 

“Told you I'm more of a rock girl,” I say with a slight wink back at him. “Steven Tyler was my first love” 

Laughing heartily at this, Paul extends his hand to me once more “Well if we weren't sure before, that might just have sold it. Welcome to the team. Obviously, we'll need to run a few background checks and go through your references, but we'd like it if you could start working straight away if possible, on the understanding that if anything untoward does pop up in the checks, we'll have to rescind our offer.” 

“Really? Oh my goodness, that's fantastic! Thank you so much” I almost shout at him, resisting the overwhelming urge to give him a hug. 

“Great, well if you'll just come to my office, we'll get the paperwork signed and put you to work!” Paul says and I practically skip behind him out of the rectangular room, giddy with excitement. I'm going on the tour!!!


	4. Birmingham, England part Three

By the time I've signed my name to basically a small forest's worth of pieces of paper and Paul has made notes on what feels like my entire life history, it's nearly 5 pm and I am already exhausted despite the fact that I've not actually done any real work yet. He's given me a temporary crew pass so that I can get around tonight, but warned me that tomorrow will be picture day so that I can get an official one, best make sure to find some time to wash and straighten my hair tomorrow before we head off to our next stop I think to myself as I stow the hotel key Paul has also given me away in the stupidly small handbag, cursing myself for leaving my regular sized one, in which I can fit more than a pencil, in my car. We also had a quick chat about the next few upcoming tour stops and Paul has synced my phone calendar with the crew schedule so I have no excuses for not being in the right place at the right time and know that the crew buses are leaving Birmingham tomorrow afternoon to head up to Manchester for the next show the following night. 

The list of destinations is overwhelming enough, but as I flick through the flight itineraries, long bus rides and a couple of social events, I am beginning to see that this isn't just a job I'm taking on here, it's a way of life. And talk about being thrown in at the deep end, I've only got four days to get my head around all of this before we hit one of the biggest stops on the tour, the o2 arena in London. The only good thing about going back down South so soon is that at least then I can hopefully find enough time to pop home and pack up a few more things, or maybe have Clark bring them to me if all else fails. Now that I officially know I'm going to be on the road for the next few months the meagre amount of clothes I packed seems stupid even to me. 

I follow along behind Paul as he leads me down to the floor of the arena and twists my head this way and that as he points out various people to me. When we finally make our way out onto the main floor I am amazed by the change in the hour or so that I've been gone, the stage looks to be completely assembled now and lights flash in every direction as the engineers run their pre-show checks. We make our way through the scores of people running this way and that, over towards a tall, pretty blonde, who flashes me a smile that shows off all of her perfectly white teeth as Paul introduces me and she reaches out a hand to shake mine

“Maddie, great to meet you. We're running a little behind tonight, so we'll have to get to know each other as we go I'm afraid, wanna give me a hand with the catwalk?” she asks me in a friendly voice as she turns the light catches her hair and I spot a shock of bright pink in the back of her blond tresses and I instantly decide that I like her

“Sure! Sorry I didn't catch your name?” I reply as Paul leaves us to work 

“Sammy,” she tells me with another smile

“Erm, so catwalk? Thought this was a concert, not a fashion show” I ask, confused as Sammy leads me over to a huge stack of what look to be black metal fence panels by the side of the newly erected stage. 

“Ha! Once you meet H, you'll see that it's kind of a bit of both!” She laughs, and although I really don't get the joke I try and smile along with her as she continues to explain the set up “See that stage down there? H and Mitch, that's his guitarist, they head down there mid-show to sing two acoustic songs. It's H's way of ensuring that even the people in the cheap seats right at the back of the arena's get a good look at him I think. Anyways he walks straight through the crowd, you know, grasps a lot of hands, receives a lot of flowers, says thank you a lot. Gives poor Jeff a heart attack each and every single night bless him, but H loves it. So we set up the catwalk every night for him to walk down” 

“Wow, I'm not surprised Jeff's not too happy about that, must be a security nightmare! One question though, erm H?” I say raising my eyebrows at Sammy. I've already gathered that this is a nickname for Harry, but I'm kind of surprised to hear one of the lowly crew members referring to him by it, let alone implying that I'll be getting to know this mythical man. Surely he keeps his distance from us little people? 

“H is kind of just what everyone calls him. Of course, he's still Harry Styles to you right now but that'll change. Don't worry you'll see. He's the best boss in the world. Now grab the other end of this would ya and follow me” 

Sammy and I chat happily as we position the surprisingly heavy black barricades along the carefully marked out catwalk area and secure them to the floor, it's fairly boring manual labour, but this is what I was told to expect and I'm not about to complain. Sammy seems like a real sweetheart as well, she's very laid back and easy to talk to and the time passes quickly as she fills me in on what I can expect here. 

Suddenly our pleasant conversation is rudely interrupted by a deafeningly loud electric guitar chord reverberating around the mostly empty arena. Jumping half out of my skin I manage to drop the end of the barricade that I am holding and it crashes down on to my foot, just catching the very edge of my pinky toe which is only covered by my soft white trainers. Pain sears through me and raising my leg I grasp my foot tightly in both of my hands, hopping up and down on the spot cursing loudly 

“Motherfu...” 

“Well well, is that any way to speak in front of your new boss?” a deep, smooth voice asks from behind me. Surprised, I turn to face the newcomer quickly, too quickly for someone hopping about on one foot. I get a quick flash of a well built man stood with his arms folded across his chest, muscles bulging out from under his T-shirt, before the arena starts to tilt bizarrely, almost in slow motion as I lose what little balance I had and topple to my left, feeling myself falling the ground seeming to rush up to meet my face as I tumble. This is going to hurt, I think as I try and mentally prepare myself for the impact.

Before I can hit the hard concrete surface though, the two muscular arms swing out and wrap themselves around me, grabbing me around the waist and pulling me close into the chest of their owner as he prevents me from falling any further and drags me upright. It takes a few seconds for my brain to catch up I stand in his embrace, but eventually, I remember to release my grip on my own foot, which for some reason I am still bloody holding on to and I reach out and grab his biceps tightly in an attempt to steady myself. I lift my head slowly, because I know exactly who it is that's come to my rescue, and I am desperate to delay the moment that I'll have to make eye contact with him. When I finally do connect my gaze with his, bright green eyes bore into mine, laced with a mixture of amusement and concern and I swear I am so god damn close to him that I could count the tiny hairs on his top lip. Fuck. So much for making good a first impression. 

“I'm SO sorry” I exclaim at the exact moment that he begins “Are you ok?” thankfully this social faux pas manages to break the tension a little and I take a step back out of his embrace and straighten myself up to my full height as I to try and answer him. 

“Erm, well emotionally that may take some time to recover from, but I think my toe will survive, thanks for saving me,” I say. 

A large smirk crosses Harry's plump pink lips as he stares down at me, never breaking eye contact and making it rather tricky for me to get a good look at the man who thousands of women would sell their mothers for a chance to get this close to. Wearing faded blue jeans and a white t-shirt which has the same slogan emblazoned on it as the merchandise that I saw the girls outside changing into, he looks more like every guy I went to school with then a world-renowned megastar. 

“Are you taking the piss out of me already new girl?” He asks with a smile and I stare back at him totally nonplussed 

“No... Sorry, I'm not sure what you mean, fairly sure that swearing at the top of my lungs and then falling over in front of you, or I guess into you? Is more than enough embarrassment for the first three minutes of our meeting without taking the piss out of you on top of that” I say honestly, still confused. 

“Oh! It's just, er, a few years back I fell over pretty spectacularly on a stadium stage in front of literally thousands of people. And at the time I said that I was 'emotionally bruised' it kinda became a thing” He informs me with a smile “ So I thought you were making a play on that line.. to take the piss.. but now, as I'm talking, I realise that I'm coming off as a complete dick as I am automatically expecting you to know quotes I said years ago at some random concert, which really, why would you? And I'm really not making a very good first impression here.” 

I watch him intently as he speaks and find myself unable to stop staring at his lips as they form each word, he speaks in a low tone, slowly, as though he is considering each word before he commits to it, I guess years of being interviewed by strangers and trying not to give too much away will do that to a guy. By the time he has finished his little speech though, I find I am biting my own lip in an attempt to stop myself from giggling at his awkwardness. 

“How about we try this whole thing again huh? I promise not to shout curses at you or throw myself at you like a twat. Shit! So much for not cursing. Fuck! I mean fudge argh!... Anytime you wanna stop me would be great” I ramble feeling my face get hotter and hotter as his eyes continue to bore into mine but to my utter relief, Harry throws back his curl-covered head and laughs loudly, obviously not offended in the slightest. It's an infectious sound, more like the laugh of an overexcited 8-year-old boy than a grown man, the joy exudes from him and  
I can't stop myself from joining in. 

By the time we've both finished laughing the heat in my face has finally dissipated and I am feeling much more at ease. I extend a hand out to him to try to introduce myself properly, realising as I do so that Sammy has gone off to retrieve another section of the barricade and Harry and I are quite alone in the centre of the arena floor. 

“Mr Styles, I'm your new crew member, Maddie, please don't fire me,” I say with mock sincerity as I wait for him to take my hand. 

“Maddie, two things, firstly don't ever call me Mr Styles, that's my dad, Harry or H is just fine. Secondly, We're huggers around here” He says and opens his arms wide 

I step forward a little self-consciously before remembering that not two seconds ago I was pressed tightly against his chest without invitation, at least this time it's a two way thing, I think to myself as I place my arms around his frame, he's skinnier than I'd have expected, but it's clear he works out, his chest is rock hard pressed into mine. 

“Thanks for not firing me,” I say cheekily with a small smirk as we pull away from one and other and Harry rummages a hand through the pocket of his jeans. 

“Here, for you.” He says handing me what appears to be a concert ticket “For tonight's show, I think it's only right that everyone who works here gets a chance to see what all their effort is for. It's a good seat too” he adds with a smile and I notice dimples pop in his cheeks, I am starting to understand why the woman outside are queueing to get as close to this man as possible, he sure is nice to look at. 

Glancing down at the ticket, I notice that it's a front row seat in the stand closest to the main stage and I am amazed, I mean, I know it's his show and everything and he can give tickets to who he likes, but seriously, shouldn't these kind of seats be being sold to the highest bidder on StubHub? Not being handed to the newly hired dogsbody who's not even passed her security checks yet. 

“Thank you,” I tell him, a little surprised “I've gotta say I didn't expect to so much as meet you, let alone have you handing me a front row ticket to your show” I admit 

“Why wouldn't I meet you?” Harry asks, his eyebrows knitted together in confusion “I know all the crew here, without you guys I wouldn't be able to do what I love every night, I consider these people my friends” he adds as if its the most obvious thing in the world and I feel a little foolish. I don't know exactly what I was expecting from Harry Styles, but this man in front of me certainly wasn't it. I guess I had some preconceived notion that he'd be kinda full of himself, having been part of one of the biggest bands on the planet since he was a kid, but he comes across as humble and easy going, not at all 'Hollywood' I think to myself as I finally read the slogan on his chest, Treat people with Kindness. In the ten minutes I've known him, I can attest that he definitely does that. Deciding it's probably best to change the subject at this point rather than dig a bigger hole for myself I say the first thing that pops into my head. 

“I was listening to your album on the drive up today and it's great! But nothing beats hearing music performed live, I look forward to seeing the show” I tell him popping the ticket into the back pocket of my own, no doubt much less expensive than his, jeans.

“Thanks, I'm glad you liked it, although I guess you wouldn't exactly tell me if you didn't. Just remember, I know where that seat is, so don't think I won't be keeping an eye on you tonight to see if you are really enjoying it” He teases me just as a voice calls down from the stage behind us 

“H, you ready mate?” Calls a good looking dark haired man in a London accent, who has a bass guitar slung across his shoulder.

Harry turns away from me for a moment and gives the man a nod, before facing me again “Duty calls, it was good to meet you, Maddie. Enjoy the show.” he says and starts to walk towards the small set of stairs that Sammy and I secured not half an hour ago to the centre of the stage. 

“Oh and Maddie? Totally agree, nothing beats live music” He says over his shoulder before joining his band on stage and picking up a star covered acoustic guitar. 

“Can you come give me a hand getting this stuff back into the vans?” Sammy calls to me from the other side of the arena, as she gestures to a pile of rolls of tape and various tools sitting by the exit and I begrudgingly turn away from Harry and his band and make my way over to grab up an armful of them and follow her out the back door of the arena. I hear the muffled beginnings of Harry starting his soundcheck. I guess I'll have to wait until the show starts to hear if this boys any good or not.


	5. Showtime

“You're sure Paul isn't going to mind me going to watch the show?” I ask Sammy anxiously as we place the last of several water bottles on the stage ready for Harry and his band and I notice that even some of these bottles have his 'treat people with kindness' motto on them and can't help but smile at the simple message that seems to be close to his heart. The opening act finished a few minutes ago and there are people rushing everywhere replacing instruments and setting up mic stands as house music pumps over the speakers. 

“Yeah don't worry he'll be fine! H always gives new crew a ticket for their first show, so Paul will be expecting it. Now go on, get! If there are any major issues which we can't survive without the girl who's only been here four hours and doesn't know how anything works, I'll come find you” she teases me with a wicked grin and pushes me towards the stands. 

“Thanks... I think.” I reply dryly and make my way off to the nearest staircase, checking my ticket once more for my seat number. When I arrive at my row, it is already packed full of excited fans decked out in Harry's merchandise and looking excited. 

“Sorry girls, can I just squeeze past?” I ask them and they quickly move to one side to let me through to my seat. I seem to be in between a group of 18/19-year-olds on one side, and a family of four on the other and the view of the stage is spectacular. Just as I take my seat, a new song starts to play over the speakers and everyone around me screams at an ear-splitting volume and jumps out of their seats, starting to sing along at the top of their lungs, phones raised in the air to capture the moment. 

“Remember the day we were giving up  
When you told me I didn't give you enough  
And all of your friends were saying I'd be leaving you  
She's lying in bed with my t-shirt on  
Just thinking how I went about it wrong  
This isn't the stain of a red wine, I'm bleeding love

Please believe me, don't you see  
The things you mean to me?  
Oh I love you, I love you  
I love, I love, I love Olivia” 

I look around the arena and see that it's not just my section that has risen to their feet, barely a single person remains in their seat, everyone is up dancing and singing along to the track that I don't recognise. Bemused I sit and watch the group of girls next to me for a few moments before one of them turns to me

“Not a Directioner?” She asks, but her eyes quickly flick down to the lanyard around my neck and she squeals loudly before I can answer her question, not that I knew what the bloody answer was to be fair. “Oh my god! Do you work on the crew? Do you know Harry? What's he like? How tall is he? Do you know what suit he's going to wear tonight? Oh my god, Christine, look, this girl works for Harry!” She shouts to her friend in the next seat along and before I get a chance to reply, the whole group of half a dozen girls have rounded on me all staring at me in amazement, their excitement at the song playing forgotten in an instant. 

“Erm, Hi! That's a lot of questions” I greet them, repressing a giggle at their enthusiasm at meeting a lowly member of the crew “I do work on the crew yeah, it's my first day, so I was given a ticket to come see the show” I tell them and their faces light up

“That's amazing!” the girl nearest to me says, “So you aren't a Directioner then? Are you a Harrie?” she asks 

“I'm a Maddie..” I say, still confused, and the girl looks at me with so much pity in her deep-set brown eyes that I swear you'd think I just told her my puppy died. 

“OK, wow. Clearly, we need to educate you a bit” she says with a grin and gestures to her friends. Who for the next fifteen minutes proceed to tell me everything that they possibly can about Harry, all talking over one and other and barely seeming to draw breath as they explain the different names for the sections of fans and tell me that the song that was just playing was called Olivia and was from One Directions last album. 

The girls inform me that by far the most important thing about Harry's shows is what he will be wearing, his suits have become iconic, the songs may stay the same every night, but he always wears a new suit and apparently twitter goes mad every night trying to get a clear picture of it as soon as possible after the screens go up.. Sammy's amusement at me asking if this was a fashion show earlier suddenly makes so much more sense. They also tell me that this is their first concert of this tour, but that they are are travelling to see all the shows he is putting on in the UK, a totally normal thing for most fans apparently. Christine, the chattiest and I am guessing by her appearance, the youngest of the group brandishes her bright pink iPhone at me to show me that she is live streaming tonight's show on something called 'Periscope' so that fans around the world can watch it on the internet at home. 

“Most streams get a few thousand people watching” the girl nearest to me whose name I've not managed to catch chimes in, like its the most normal thing in the world before she tells me that the last song before Harry goes on stage is on and we should get ready, I'm guessing from her knowledge that she's watched a fair few streams herself. Listening to these girls talk, it's clear that being a fan of Harry is more of a religion than a hobby, I'm starting to understand why Jeff was eager to hear I wasn't a fan before he agreed to hire me. 

The colourful animation on the screens shows the Rubix cube finally being completed and flying off into the air before going dark and the girls around me all grab hold of each other's hands and I swear I can hear them all take a collective deep breath, as if they need to prepare themselves for what's to come. 

As the opening bars to one of the album tracks I was listening to just this morning starts to reverberate around the arena, the screams reach a whole new level as the circular black screens start to rise and a silhouette appears centre stage behind a mic stand. Bright white lights shine out in every direction and it looks more like the gates of heaven are opening than the start of a pop concert. Glancing down into the pit area below me, I can see security trying to remove a fan who seems to have already passed out, that didn't take long I think to myself, just as the first guitar chords are strummed and the lights dim enough to reveal the man of the night. 

Decked out in a smart blue suit and black shirt, from the moment that he is visible to the crowd Harry is absolutely full of energy, he bounds across the stage, from one side to the other, dancing and blowing kisses to his adoring fans as they proclaim their undying love for him and raise what looks to be a sea of multicoloured flags and banners in the air as they sing along with every lyric not missing a beat. 

When he launches into his second song of the night, a more sultry number which sends the crowd wild, the girl next to me reaches over and taps me on the shoulder “Look” she whispers showing me the screen on the pink iPhone, I glance over and squint at it in the near darkness and I can clearly see Harry grinding up against his mic stand lit by an array of purple lights, messages flash up from the fans watching at home and I see a small number in the bottom corner 2.6k. Wow, I can't imagine wanting to sit at home and watch a fuzzy stream of a concert from someone's phone, but I guess Harry's fans are a lot more hardcore than I am. 

After a couple of songs, Harry takes a minute to introduce himself to the crowd, which I find hilarious, unlike at my gigs, I am fairly certain that there isn't one person in this room tonight who doesn't know exactly who he is but he tells them anyway

“My name is Harry, nice to meet you all,” he says in his deep northern accent and the crowd goes wild, he continues to tell them to be whoever they want to be in this room tonight and assures them that he will do his very best to put on a great show for them. It's endearing really, this millionaire popstar promising his fans he'll try his best for them, and a picture of the unassuming man who caught me after my fall earlier today pops into my head, he really isn't what I expected at all. 

The first few songs of the set are all ones that I recognise from his album and I have to say, he has a great voice, with the exception of the odd key change here and there which sends the audience wild, he sounds just the same as he does on the recording, I am pleasantly surprised to even see him sporting a guitar for a few of the tracks. By the time he launches into an old one direction song, I am not familiar with about 20 minutes in, any preconceptions I had about him have totally been blown out of the water. It's clear to see that despite the fact that most of the crowd would probably pay just to be in the same room as him, he's not holding anything back. He is a real showman and he gives his all to every single track. 

When Harry announces that he is about to sing a new song, that he's only previously played on this tour, the girls around me all start to scream “Medicine” at the top of their lungs, nearly deafening me in the process and I wonder what on earth they are going on about until I catch the first few lines of the song and realise that it must be the title. 

“Here to take my medicine, take my medicine  
Treat you like a gentleman  
Give me that adrenaline, that adrenaline  
Think I'm gonna stick with you  
Here to take my medicine, take my medicine,   
Rest it on your fingertips  
Up to your mouth, feeling it out  
Feeling it out” 

Well this is certainly a change of pace, deep red lights illuminate Harry as he stands behind his mic stand and croons out the opening verse in a low, dramatic tone, his eyes droop closed as he murmurs the lyrics which I can see everyone in the crowd screaming back to him, despite him saying that this is a new song. As the  
second verse kicks in I strain my ears to try and make out the lyrics 

“Tingle running through my bones, fingers to my toes  
Tingle running through my bones  
The boys and the girls are in  
I mess around with him  
And I'm ok with it” 

Him? Is he gay then? I wonder to myself as he launches into another chorus and starts to prance around the stage like a true rock star to the fun, almost glam-rock number, occasionally having to stop and detangle himself from his long mic-cord. 

The next song is a total turn around, back to one of the crooning ballads from his album on which he harmonises with the two ladies in his band, their voices melding together beautifully on the mournful track, before he makes his way down into the crowd and disappears from my sight for a moment as he walks through the catwalk that Sammy and I set up earlier, which I am glad to see holds up well against the multitude of fans pressing against it in the hope of getting some attention from their idol who stops to hold their hands, accept flowers and sign something just as Sammy told me that he would and I realise from the glimpses of his face on the big screen above the stage, that he truly loves and appreciates every single person here, if I had to bet, I'd say this is probably one of his favourite moments of his show, being able to get up close and personal to his fans. 

It takes him a minute or two to make it to the B stage with his guitarist, and they launch into a beautiful acoustic version of one of my favourite tracks from his album, Sweet Creature, with a classic rock sound and catchy melody his voice floats effortlessly around the arena, and although I can only see the back of his head from my seat in the stands, I've no doubt that the emotion he is pouring into the lyrics will be etched all over his pretty face, I might not have known much about him before today, but even I can admit that he's kind of gorgeous. 

The show continues at a breakneck pace, track after track, interspersed with Harry chatting happily to the crowd and even singing happy birthday to one lucky fan. A couple of times I think I see him glance towards me and I wonder if he can make me out in the sea of bright lights and faces, but when, during a ramped up version of What Makes You Beautiful, he looks over and gives me a thumbs up with a questioning expression on his face, my question is answered, and I cheekily give him a 'so-so' gesture in response, causing him to laugh heartily, a wide smile crossing across his features, before he wanders over and picks up a pride flag from the stage and starts to dance around with it happily. Why are the prettiest ones always gay? I ask myself semi-seriously before giving my head a little shake. Gay, Straight, Bi.. it doesn't matter to me, I'm not here looking for a boyfriend after all. 

When Harry starts to play the epic rock ballad, Sign of the Times, the very song I felt the need to repeat several times in the car earlier, I switch on my torch and raise my phone up in the air with the rest of the audience and marvel and the sea of white lights illuminating every section of the arena. The moving track feels even more impressive in this large space and I find tears pricking at my eyes by the time Harry runs offstage before his encore. 

I can't shake the feeling that I should probably head backstage myself... I don't know how many tracks are in the encore, but the last thing I want to do is piss Paul off on my first night here by not being ready to help dismantle the stages when the show ends. I decide to text Clark quickly and see what he thinks and he quickly reassures me that Paul knows where I am and he insists that I should watch the end of the show, so I settle back down into my seat and lose myself in Harry's pain filled voice as he sings From the Dining Table to an almost silent crowd, who seem scared to even breathe in case they disturb the atmosphere in the room, his melancholy is clear for all to see and I can't help wondering who hurt him so badly and have a slight urge to give them a piece of my mind. 

As the song comes to an end and the band start to play the intro the next track, Harry takes a moment to encourage the crowd to get up and dance and let loose, he tells us that he only has two more songs to go and says something about how we aren't going to see the people around us tomorrow and, despite the fact that these words of wisdom don't really apply to me, I decide to throw caution to the wind and rise out of my seat with the crowd around me as Harry starts to sing what is, in my opinion, one of the best rock songs ever written.

I feel my jaw drop in shock as he grabs the mic stand and starts to grind against it as he sings the very familiar lyrics to one of my all-time favourite Fleetwood Mac songs, The Chain and I can't help but be surprised that this guy from a pop band would choose this of all songs to cover, but I can't pretend he doesn't do a good job of it. I find myself singing along with him at the top of my lungs and bouncing around, hoping against hope that he doesn't decide to look my way again. Most of the people here may not have to see each other tomorrow, but I will have to see the rest of the crew every single night for many months to come, and I don't really need to make too much of a prat out of myself on day one. 

The moment the last song of the night, Kiwi comes to an end I see Harry randomly spit a mouthful of water in the air like some kind of Whale clearing it's blowhole and bolt of stage quicker than I'd have thought he'd be able to move after a 90 minute high energy set and I figure that's my queue to get my arse back there as well. I quickly say goodbye to the girls next to me, promising to give their love to Harry and tell him how much they enjoyed the show, and rush off down the stairs. A scary looking security guard stops me as I reach the barriers and try to make my way backstage, but thankfully a quick glimpse at my lanyard persuades him to let me through and I rush behind the thick black curtains, my ears still ringing, and set off in search of Sammy.


	6. Post Show

By the time Sammy and I slump out of the crew buses and into the hotel, it's already 3 am and to say I am shattered would be an understatement but my requests to go straight to bed seem to be falling on deaf ears... 

“Oh C'mon! It's your first night! We need to celebrate and welcome you to the team properly, you can't just slouch off to bed” Sammy admonishes me as we make our way into the hotel lobby, I barely have the energy to take in the opulent surroundings, let alone enough to head to the hotel bar with Sammy and a few other members of the crew. But as we have the day off tomorrow, they seem to have decided that tonight is a good night for a bit of fun. 

“I'll come for one, just one though! Some of us had to drive halfway across England this morning remember” I say, giving in. I don't want to seem like a killjoy. Reluctantly I follow along behind Sammy, Clarke and a couple of others who I've not met yet towards the bar and order myself a large vodka Redbull in a pitiful attempt to perk myself up a bit before flopping into an oversized comfy armchair. 

“To surviving day one!” Sammy says loudly, raising her garish pink and green cocktail up to clink glasses with Clarke and I as we settle in around a table in the corner of the bar. 

“Haha thanks, I don't think I managed to break anything at least, although I'm fairly sure when I take my shoes off I'm gonna have a pretty big bruise on my toe” I joke, tapping my glass against both of theirs and settling back in my seat. 

“What did you think of your first night then Kiddo?” Clarke asks and Sammy shoots me a confused look

“Kiddo?” She questions

“Yeah, Clarke seems to not understand the ageing process.. he's known me since I was a baby and seems to have trouble reconciling the fact that I'm actually all grown up now,” I tell her, giving Clarke a withering look 

“Sorry Kiddo, but no matter how old you get, you're always gonna be Mike's bratty kid sister to me. Gotta admit though, you're nicer to look at since your boobs grew in” He fires back at me with a wink and I grab one of the plump red velvet cushions from behind me and swat him around the head with it playfully making him slosh some of his beer over his lap. Serves him right. 

“Your boobs aren't looking so bad either!” I tease him with a pointed look at his chest. It's not that Clarke's fat exactly, but he's certainly carrying around a bit more weight than he was the last time I saw him and the outline of teeny tiny man boobs is visible through his thin white T-Shirt. “Anyways, if you're quite done taking the piss I'll answer your question,” I say in my most exasperated voice. Clarke nods lightly in my direction and takes a huge gulp of his pint, draining half the glass in one go as he waits for me to respond. “It was good! Although I'm bloody tired, I enjoyed it, everyone seems really friendly and, other than my little mishap with the star of the show, I don't think I made too much of a prat out of myself” I tell him

“Mishap? Ahh shit kid, what did you do?” Clarke asks and Sammy bursts into a fit of the giggles, almost choking on the mouthful of cocktail she was midway through swallowing and I reach over to pat her on the back whilst her coughing subsides. 

“Argh.. well... I mighta sorta.. dropped one of the barricades on my toe and fallen over into him a little bit.” I admit sheepishly, feeling the heat rising in my face 

“AND!” Sammy prompts me unwilling to let me get away with only telling half the story. 

“Ok, Ok, it's possible that I also screamed a few obscenities in his general direction as well... I didn't know he was there!!” I finish and put my head in my hands in mock shame 

“You didn't!” Clarke laughs, slapping his denim-clad thigh heavily with one of his pudgy hands

“Don't you mean in his one direction?” Sammy splutters, tears streaming down her cheeks, clearly impressed with her own joke 

“Hey! That thing was damn heavy, and it really hurt! Either of you would have done the same thing” I defend myself as I join in with their infectious laughter. “Thank god he was ok about it, can you imagine if I'd have been fired by THE Harry Styles on my first night of the damn tour?!” I ask them through my laughter. 

“I told you, Maddie, H is a good guy, he'd never fire you over something so stupid. In fact, to the best of my knowledge, he's never fired anyone from the crew. He even tried to convince Paul to give Amber and Tony another chance before they were let go” Sammy says

“Amber and Tony? Were they the two that got fired before I got here?” I ask her, finally managing to compose myself and relaxing back against the cushions of my chair. 

Sammy looks around quickly before answering me as if to check who is in earshot before she starts gossiping, which I can tell from the look on her face, she is absolutely dying to do. There are several other crew members milling around in the small bar, but most of them are too far away to hear our conversation so she leans in a little closer to Clarke and I before she continues. 

“That's the ones, well it was no secret that they'd been at it for weeks, for most of the European leg they've been sneaking in and out of one and others hotels rooms after shows, but then when we got to Oslo middle of last month, Amber was bunking in with Cathy, who by the way has the biggest mouth of anyone on the crew, watch out for her, and Tony ended up in a room with two other blokes, so it became more complicated for them to have their little liaisons” Sammy says in a mock French accent before taking a large gulp of her drink and setting the glass back on the table before continuing “After that people started running into them everywhere, and I do mean everywhere. In the toilets, the gym, once I actually spotted them going at it up against a speaker backstage when we were supposed to be doing takedown. They were like fucking rabbits I swear!” 

“Oh my god really? Right there in the arena?” I ask incredulously, unable to believe that anyone would be quite that brazen. “Surely they could have just snuck off to another hotel or something and got a room together?” 

“Nah, Paul would have gone more mental about that, to be honest, he insists that we all stay under the same roof whilst we're touring, less chance of private info about H getting out or someone turning up late for a flight or something that way you see.” 

“So did Paul or Harry or someone catch them at it then? Is that why they got fired?” I ask her totally invested in this story now and desperate to find out the ending. 

“God no! They were careful enough to make sure the only people who ever spotted them were other crew members, after a while, we all just got used to hearing heavy breathing behind a closed door or accidentally getting an eye full of someone pulling up their underwear in a hurry. Problem was, relationship like that when it's all just about sex, I guess it was destined to burn out, and when it did things got nasty real quick” Sammy tells me before Clarke steps in eagerly to pick up the story 

“See, Tony started dating one of the other crew, Claire, and Amber went apeshit when she found out, tried to have a punch-up with Claire right in the middle of the arena floor in Mannheim, Claire was terrified bless her and we were all trying to pull Amber away, but she was tearing at Claire s hair, ripped her top and all sorts” Clarke says with a smile that tells me he enjoyed the spectacle a lot more than he's willing to let on. 

“Paul heard the commotion and came out to see what was going on just as Amber threw a pretty decent right hook at Tony” Sammy continues “So he herded them both off into his office, and that was that, by the time we got back to the hotel that night, both of them were on planes back home” 

“Wow, well remind me not to get involved with any of the guys on the crew then!” I say jokingly as I finish my drink. 

“Probably for the best, their all idiots anyways,” Sammy says with a pointed look at Clarke, but he doesn't notice. 

“I'll get another round in,” He says, and before I can protest, he's already up out of his chair and halfway to the bar, so much for just one, I think to myself. I notice that most of the other crew members have called it a night now and only there are only the three of us, and two guys sat at the opposite end of the bar left. 

“So come on, spill, what did you think of the show?” Sammy asks me 

“I thought it was great! Honestly, I wasn't at all what I expected, I mean.. it's hard not to have preconceived ideas of what you're gonna get from an ex-boyband members solo tour, but I thought he was great. I really loved a lot of the songs, and there's no questioning that boy can sing” I admit

“And Mads here would know a thing or two about that, she's been singing for as long as I can remember,” Clark says as he returns to our table and hands us both our drinks and sits back down 

“Really, you sing?” Sammy asks

“Yep, as often as I can. Before this I was gigging up and down the country, you know, paying my dues. Then this opportunity came up and I figured it might be a good way to make some contacts you know, try and get a toe in the door” 

“That's awesome, you'll have to sing for me one day! But, just don't let Jeff find out that's your motivation ok? He doesn't want anyone stealing the thunder from his precious Harry, not that I honestly think anyone could, no offence obviously” Sammy says, slurring slightly and I notice that she has completely drained her second cocktail already and looks a bit unsteady in her chair. 

“Haha, none taken. And yeah, I've been warned don't worry” I say flashing Clarke a look. “Even Paul hid my CV out of sight when Jeff came into my interview” 

“Probably for the best, you won't see much of Jeff anyways, he's normally off with Harry in the gym or playing ping pong all hours of the day and night. It's like an obsession” 

We sit for another half hour or so enjoying a couple more drinks and getting to know each other, and I realise that, despite my tiredness, I am glad that I agreed to come. Sammy, whilst a little outspoken and loud, is exactly the type of girl I've always gotten along well with, she's honest and says what she thinks, there's nothing fake about her which I love. Getting to know Clarke the adult is quite the eye opener as well, he's much more confident than the spotty teenager I remember and seems he has a bit of a reputation around here for jumping from bed to bed but apparently he makes sure not to get attached so as to ensure he doesn't make the same mistakes as Toby. 

By the time I finish my fourth vodka red-bull, it's gone 4 am, and I am now wide awake, typical! I should have stuck to coke I think to myself as I put my empty glass down on the table and stand to make my way over to the bar, might as well stay and have another one, there's no way I'm going to be able to sleep for a while and it's my round. 

“Same again?” I ask them both 

“Nah not for me Kiddo, I'm not one to kiss and tell, but if I don't get up to a certain ladies room before long, I ain't gonna end up getting any kissing to tell of at all!” Clarke says as he gets out of his chair, he wobbles slightly, which is understandable as he's been having shots as chasers with every pint tonight. 

“Eww... I don't want to know thank you!” I say covering my ears in mock horror, as much as Clarke still sees me as a child and calls me kiddo, I still see him as a second older brother and I've got no desire to think too much about what he gets up to after dark. “How bout you Sammy?” 

“Sure, I'll have another.. one of these things,” She says, brandishing her empty glass in my direction. I take the glass from her and turn to head over to the bar, calling out my goodbyes to Clarke over my shoulder and paying absolutely no attention whatsoever to where I am going, until I walk straight into what feels like a brick wall. 

“Ouch! Shit!” I cry as I stumble backwards and the glass in my hand falls from my grasp, dropping to the floor like a stone where it promptly shatters into a million tiny pieces with an ear-splitting crash the minute it hits the hardwood. “Fuck!” I exclaim as I drop to my knees to start clearing up the mess. 

“Do you reckon there's ever going to be a time where I see you and you aren't swearing at the top of your lungs and falling over?” a familiar low drawl asks from above me and I cringe... 

Slowly raising my head I see Harry looking down at me with a smirk on his too pretty face. He's wearing a white tank top and black shorts, which show off his multitudes of Tattoos, I can just see the tips of what look to be wings poking out of the top of his shirt by his collarbone and have a sudden urge to pull his shirt off so I can see the rest of them, but I manage to control myself despite the Vodka and not manhandle the poor boy. I also notice that he has a towel slung loosely around his shoulders and a red bandanna holding back his hair, I'm guessing he's just come from the hotel gym. 

Why do I keep making a prat out of myself in front of this man! I quickly glance around in search of the wayward wall I hit, so that I can make my excuses, but there don't seem to be any anywhere near me... which tells me that the rock hard object I walked into... wasn't a wall at all, but Harry himself.. Shit.


	7. Hotel Bar - Birmingham, England

“Here, let me help you,” Harry says kindly as he crouches down next to me and starts to pick up shards of glass from the floor 

“It's ok really if you cut yourself and can't play your guitar at your next show I'll have 20,000 screaming women out for my blood,” I say, quickly pushing his hand away from the mess 

“Ha! In the less than 12 hours that I've known you, you've already managed to send a metal gate crashing on to your foot, fall over.. and then walk straight into me and smash a glass. If either of us needs protecting from themselves, it's you” He teases me, a small smirk forming across his lips. 

“How about I just ask the barman for a dustpan and brush eh?” I suggest and start to get to my feet. But, because I am just clumsy or maybe because God just likes to try and show me up in front of this man, I guess it could, possibly, be because of the vodkas.. the moment I start to try and stand, the whole world begins to spin and I feel myself starting to topple over again. One of Harry's long arms shoots out to steady me and a small voice in the back of my mind tells me that I should probably be embarrassed by all this.. but the combination of extreme tiredness and one too many drinks causes a loud, high pitched giggle to erupt from my throat instead. 

Out of the corner of my eye, I see a barman approaching us, dustpan and brush in hand

“Ahh my knight in shining.... shirt,” I say as I take in the man's appearance. He's tall, even taller than Harry who's got to be six foot at least and has short cropped blonde hair, stunning blue eyes and is wearing a smart black shirt buttoned tightly against his Adam's apple. That can't be comfortable... I try and reach out for the dustpan, but he pulls it out of my reach 

“I've got this ma'am, don't worry,” He tells me and I hear a trace of what I think is an Australian accent, could be New Zealand...Kiwi... She worked her way through a cheap pack of cigarettes... hahaha. Hang on, where was I? 

“Ma'am?! How old do you think I am?” I ask pretending to be offended by his choice of words, but before I can say anymore I feel Harry's strong hand wrap around my bicep and gently lead me towards a stool by the bar, he plops me down on it quite unceremoniously, but keeps a hand on my shoulder as if to keep me steady. 

“Can I get a pint of water please?” He asks a second barman who is slightly red-faced and seems to have been enjoying our little exchange. 

“Oooh no! I need another one of those pink things for Sammy please Mr Bar Keep. You know what? I think I'll try one of those too actually! Two pink things... I don't know what they're called... I had the glass to show you.. but well, it's down there now” I explain, pointing to the mess of glass and the man on his knees with his dustpan and brush. Wow, I'm sure I wasn't this drunk a minute ago, it seems like all the excitement of my run-in with Harry, run in haha! Get it? Anyways.. that may have exacerbated my inebriation. Look at me using big words, maybe I am not as drunk as I think I am, after all, I mentally pat myself on the back. 

“I think maybe you've had enough for now, how about you have the water first? Then we'll discuss the pink thing. And, I think Sammy left” Harry says, nodding in the direction of the now abandoned chair that I am sure Sammy was sitting on when I got up

“Well, how rude!” I exclaim a little too loudly in the now empty bar and wobble slightly on my stool. Harry lifts the glass of water off of the bar and stands in one swift movement and I notice a little curl slip out from underneath his bandanna and rest right in the centre of his forehead, I want to reach over and tuck it back into place, but I'm concerned that if I lean that far.. I may fall over again and I think I've probably fallen into my new boss enough times already for one day. 

“How about we go sit you somewhere a little less precarious?” Harry says, reaching out a hand to me as I start to spin slightly on the stool 

“Hmph. I'm not a child ya know.” I reprimand him, but I place my hand in his anyway and allow him to drag me off the stool 

“Not two seconds ago you were telling off that poor lad for calling you Ma'am.. and now you're annoyed at me for treating you like a child?” Harry chuckles as he leads me back over to the seats that Sammy, Clarke and I were recently sat in and directs me onto the sofa. 

“I will have you know, I am 22 years young Mr Styles. Both young and old enough to be allowed another drink” I complain, frowning at the glass of water in his hand. 

“Trust me, Maddie, when you have to get on the bus with 20 other crew members later this afternoon, you're gonna thank me for this,” He says and a small voice in the back of my head tells me that he might have a point, so I begrudgingly down the water. It tastes amazing, ice cold and refreshing and I find myself feeling quite frustrated when it's gone. I turn the glass upside down and tap the end over my open mouth, sticking out my tongue to catch the last few droplets. 

“Better?” Harry asks and as I look over to him I see that his eyebrows are knitted together, causing little creases to form between them, right underneath the wayward curl. I give him a nod, not quite ready to verbally admit he was right. “How about we try a coffee next? How many drinks have you had anyway?” He asks seriously and I start to wonder if maybe I am in trouble here. It's not exactly professional to get drunk on your first night at a new job, but I've only had... 

“Four. I think. Clarke might have gotten me doubles though.. and I haven't had the chance to eat much today..” I admit, lowering my eyes so I don't have to meet his gaze.

“Coffee it is” Harry says and beckons to the nearby barman to place the order, a couple of minutes later and two large steaming cups of what looks to be strong black coffee are placed on the low table in front of us, I notice for the first time, that instead of taking one of the armchairs scattered around, Harry is sitting next to me on the lush purple velvet sofa, one ankle resting casually on the opposite leg and an arm swung across the back of the seat and I am struck again by how normal he looks, I don't think anyone who didn't know him would realise that just a few hours ago this man was wowing thousands of women in some fancy-smancy suit at the arena down the road. 

We sit in silence for a few minutes, our coffee cups emitting a light steam into the air around us, low jazz music plays from the distant speakers and I close my eyes for a moment to take in the sound of the saxophone solo 

“Hey hey, this isn't a good place to sleep,” Harry says, shaking my knee gently

“Wasn't” I growl back, forcing my eyes open “Was listening” I inform him and lean over to pick up my coffee cup, careful to use both hands so that I don't end up spilling it on either one of us. 

“Do you always listen with your eyes closed? They seemed quite open during the show earlier” Harry says as he brings his own coffee to his lips. 

“Well that's different, isn't it? You were there putting on a show.. the man playing the saxophone isn't here, the only things for me to look at are just going to distract me, and I felt he deserved my full attention for his solo. Just like I gave you my full attention earlier.” I see Harry look at me quizzically, as if trying to figure me out, so I decide to quickly distract him “Although.. there were a couple of times I was watching your guitarist instead, he's kinda awesome” I tell him, because it's true, I had been utterly mesmerised by the man in the burgundy suit at times throughout the show, especially during one of the songs I'd not heard before, can't think what it was called now, sampled George Michael.. so I shall call it the Faith song. 

“Ha! Charming. You do realise the name on your ticket said Harry Styles, not Mitchell Rowland right?” He says in a mock serious tone, but I can see that little smirk of his pulling at the corners of his plump lips, they look very soft... focus Maddie! 

“Ahh see, I didn't check what the ticket said, some bloke gave it to me before the show. For a while, I thought he was just trying to get into my knickers, but then he went off prancing around the stage singing a song about sucking dick, so that smushed that idea” 

The laugh that comes out of Harry makes me jump so violently that I am glad my coffee cup is nearly empty or I'd be wearing it about now, he reaches a hand up to his mouth in quite an adorable manner to cover his guffaws and I find myself focussing on his lips again, they are very pink... 

“Jesus, you're certainly not backwards in coming forwards, are you? I think I'm going to have to keep my eye on you, Maddie Graham. You're going to be trouble I can feel it” he says when his laughter subsides. 

I drain the rest of my coffee and start to feel my head beginning to clear slightly, but now I am even more bloody wide awake than I was before, why did I accept more caffeine? I wonder to myself as I glance around the room for a clock, unable to locate one I pull my phone from the stupid clutch bag that I am still carrying around, dammit my suitcase is still outside in my car I remember as I tap at the screen impatiently, waiting for it to light up. 

“Shit! 5:02 am!! I should really be in bed” I say putting my head in my hands, my long brown hair falls around my face and blocks out the world for a minute before I feel Harry's hand pushing some of it back behind the ear nearest to him, trying to catch my eye.

“You say that a lot you know” he teases me

“What shit? For your information Mr Popstar Styles, Science has proven that intelligent people tend to swear more than stupid ones.. so maybe that just means I'm cleverer than you?” 

“Hmm, just not clever enough to put yourself to bed after your first night at a new job eh? Or to at least have a decent meal before you start drinking?” Harry fires back  
quickly not missing a beat. 

“Touche. What about you huh? You're up and about at silly o'clock in the morning too.” I accuse him sticking out a finger to poke him in the chest a little too hard, he rubs the spot vigorously. “Maybe I need another coffee” I mumble quietly by way of an apology and Harry gives an almost imperceptible nod to the barman who appears next to us with fresh cups almost instantly. 

“I was in the gym,” Harry says, gesturing to his outfit “As you can probably tell. Sometimes it takes me a while to come down after a show, the adrenaline you know? Working out is a good way to blow off steam” 

The barman appears with our fresh coffees and clears away the empties and I can feel the fog starting to lift higher and higher as I sip on the scalding liquid, but despite the hour, for some reason, I'm not particularly eager to call it a night just yet, I'm enjoying talking to Harry. 

“Don't you think that maybe if you're wanting to wind down... Coffee isn't the best way to go?” I ask him raising an eyebrow

“Mines Decafe” He counters as he takes a sip of his own drink and flashes me a smile so brilliant that it takes a couple of moments for me to remember what we were talking about. 

“Ahh, not just a pretty face then after all eh?” I taunt 

“What do you care if the bloke who's, erm how did you put it again? 'Prancing around and singing about sucking dick' is pretty or not eh?” He asks and I think I see a hint of something in his eye, intrigue maybe? Hurt? 

“You just spent an evening with literally thousands of women screaming out your name, I think you already know you're hot without me having to boost your ego” 

“One of the first things you'll learn about me Maddie is, I'm a narcissist. There is no such thing as too many compliments, or too many beautiful women screaming my name either” he says easily matching my smart mouth and keeping up with our friendly banter. I can't pretend I'm not impressed, you'd think with people throwing themselves at him hourly, he wouldn't need to have much of a personality really, but he's funny, and self-deprecating despite his claims of being narcissistic, he's clever and charming... Hmm, better stop those thoughts now I think before I really do become trouble. 

“Women?” I can't help myself asking, but I hide my face behind my cup so I don't have to make eye contact with him whilst he replies. Why do I even care? 

“Love is love, right? I don't really do labels” he says simply before placing his empty cup on the table. “Ready for bed?” He asks and I feel my face fall 

“Ex-excuse me?” 

“Well I did give you the free ticket, isn't this what you were expecting?” He says, his face is unreadable, he looks deadly serious and I feel my stomach drop down to the floor. Fuck, is he really expecting me to go to bed with him?! 

“I.. I don't think... What I mean to say is...” I start to stutter, desperately trying to search my fuzzy brain for the right words to turn him down without offending him and/or losing my job. I raise my eyes to meet his, noticing as I do that they are a remarkable emerald green colour, and that's when I see it, the slight twinkle resting there. The index finger he has raised to his lips is no longer able to cover the smirk that's growing on them and I expel a huge long-held breath in relief as he gives up and starts to laugh that infectious little boy laugh again. 

“Kidding Maddie. Jeez. Can't believe you fell for that, two seconds ago you were convinced I was gay! Besides, how much of a dick do you think I am?” 

“After that move Styles, I think you're a pretty fucking big dick actually,” I say and swipe him gently across the arm as I pull myself out of my chair and start to head towards the bar doors. I notice that Harry leaves a hefty tip behind and places out empty cups on the bar before following me out

“Someone's mother raised them well. Helping out the damsel in distress, cleaning up after yourself, you aren't at all what I would have expected a pop star to be” I tell Harry as we make our way into the main foyer

Harry shrugs nonchalantly in response “I know how lucky I am, things like this don't happen to guys like me. I'm not going to let it change me into something I'm not if I can help it. It's hardly difficult to be nice to people around you” 

“I guess not. Well, thank you Mr Styles, for coming to my rescue this evening” I say formally as we come to a stop

“What did I say about that Mr Styles crap? What room are you in? I'll take you to your door” He says 

“It's ok, I need to go and get my suitcase from my car first anyways,” I tell him

“Erm, no you don't, you aren't going out there at the crack of dawn by yourself! Where's your car?”Harry asks shocked

“Just in the car park... I'll be fine Harry, I'm tougher than I look” I reply but I can already see from the look on his face that I am not going to get away with that. 

“Which room are you in?” He asks again and I pull the key from my tiny bag and check the number 

“206” 

“Car keys,” he says holding out his hand 

“Can I not even come with you?” I ask pouting my lips childishly up at him

“Nope. You can wait right here. Like you said, my mother raised me well.” 

Knowing I am beaten and quite frankly, if he wants to venture out into the freezing early morning mist then who am I to stop him? I place my keys in his outstretched hand and fold my own arms across my chest, giving him a brief description of the car and flop myself down on a leather chair nearby. 

“Maddie? Maddie?” I can hear a voice calling to me from somewhere in the distance, someone's shaking my shoulder. 

“What?” I snap, forcing my eyes open. Harry is looming over me, his wide eyes filled with concern   
“Ooh sorry” I apologise quickly

“I'm afraid you can't sleep here either. Come on, let's get you to your room” He says and pulls me to my feet. 

When we finally reach the door to my room I quickly unlock the door and Harry places my suitcase in the hallway. Turning back I look up into those emerald eyes, which I notice now look kind of watery, I really shouldn't have let him stay up with me so late I chastise myself. 

“Thank you for.. well... coming to my rescue, both times today,” I say quietly suppressing a yawn

“You're very welcome, although, you didn't tell me what you thought of the show. Other than the prancing..” He teases me 

“I guess I didn't” I agree with a smile “I bet the suspense is just killing you” 

“How about you put me out of my misery then? Come and have breakfast with me later? Say 11? gives us both time to get some sleep and I'll know you've actually had a decent meal, unlike today, in case you decide to go drinking again” he scolds me 

“Harry you don't have to..” 

“I know I don't have to, but I'd like to. I'm in the penthouse, I'll let security know you're coming” he says and envelopes me in a large hug before I can argue. 

“Goodnight trouble,” He says with a wink as he starts to walk back to the lifts. 

“Night Mr Styles” I throw back, sticking my tongue out at him for effect before closing the door. I fall face first down on to the bed and I'm asleep before I even have time to register that I've not so much as removed my trainers.


	8. The Morning after the night before

A loud incessant banging wakes me up way too early the next morning and, as much as I don't want to move, I am fairly convinced that if I don't locate the source of the noise and shut it up soon, my head is going to crack open straight down the middle. 

I blearily made my way to my tiny hotel room door, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes and cursing myself for falling asleep in the only decent pair of jeans I have with me and fling open the door in a huff. 

“Never let me have one of those pink things again. Ever” Sammy greets me as she pushes past me into the room. She's wearing grey joggers and a treat people with kindness T-shirt which I am assuming she has procured from the merchandise store, and a pair of oversized round rimmed sunglasses, despite the fact that its April... in the north of England and there isn't a speck of sunlight to be seen, just a sea of low grey clouds are visible from the small window in my room, where the curtains stand wide open. How drunk was I last night? 

“Fairly certain that last night proved I have zero control over you. Thought I made it clear I was only staying for one drink?” I huff and fall back down on my bed, propping myself up against the pillows. Sammy joins me, quickly making herself comfortable and kicking off her trainers which land with a dull thunk as they hit the floor. 

“Moi? I was the innocent party in all of this. I blame Clarke.” 

“Me too. Let's blame Clarke. Everything is his fault” I concur as Sammy picks up the remote for the tiny TV which is sat on an old style dresser in the corner of the room and turns it on. Flicking slowly through the channels until she finds what appears to be a kids cartoon. Seemingly satisfied, she rolls on the bed to face me. 

“So. What happened with you and H last night then? When I left you two were looking pretty cosy” She asks, without a trace of embarrassment at her intrusion into my personal life. Despite not having known her for twenty-four hours yet, I find myself completely comfortable with her mini-interrogation. 

“If I remember correctly, I swore in front of him, again, loudly after bashing into him... then he just forced me to drink extra strong coffee until he was satisfied I was sober enough to be left unattended and he showed me to my room. All perfectly PG.. except for the swearing of course. Where did you fuck off to anyways? One minute you were there.. then you weren't?” I ask her as I make my way over to the tiny kettle that they always seem to have in British hotel rooms and flick it on, locating a couple of tea bags and throwing them into two ludicrously small cups which are only going to hold about three mouthfuls each. 

“Well... I sort of got an offer I couldn't refuse...” Sammy says, showing some sheepishness for the first time since I've met her. “I knew H would take care of you!” She finishes defensively 

“You do realise both you and Clarke spent quite some time last night advising me AGAINST getting too friendly with other crew members, then both promptly disappeared in the middle of the night to do just that right?” 

“We advised you not to get in a relationship with anyone on the crew. We didn't say you shouldn't have any fun! C'mon! We're young, we're hot and we're travelling the world with a rock star for god's sake! If H didn't want any hanky-panky he should have hired a crew of nuns. Even his bandmates are at it” Sammy informs me as I hand her one of the mini cups of tea. 

“Sugar?” I ask

“Sweet enough already thanks” She smiles back 

“Dare I ask who's room you snuck off to then?” 

“Freddie... I don't think you've met him yet. He's one of the riggers. Not normally my type but I can't say my judgement was at its best last night. He was ok though, 7 out of 10 I reckon, although that could be the pink thing talking. I'd recommend him to a friend. I'll point him out to you on the bus later.” She says in a rush 

“Cheers, but I think you can offer up your sloppy seconds to someone else thanks!” I tease her blowing on my tea to try and cool it down enough to drink.

“So ungrateful, there's me, trying to make sure you feel welcome here and you throw it straight back in my face. Wanna go grab some lunch before the bus leaves? There's a nice little cafe down the road” 

“Shit! Breakfast!” I exclaim as a vague memory of Harry asking me to meet him in his room resurfaces from the depths of my foggy brain “What time is it?” I ask Sammy, leaning across her to the bedside table on which my phone is sitting, but when I tap the screen.. nothing. It's dead. Apparently, I didn't manage to do anything at all when I got back last night. 

“Little before 11 I think, what's got your knickers in a twist?” 

“Shit shit shit. I'm meant to be meeting Harry for breakfast at 11!! shit. I need to shower” I say thrusting my now empty teacup into Sammy's empty hand and making my way to the en-suite bathroom, which it turns out is just about big enough for me to strip in if I stand half in, half out of the shower. Wonderful. 

“What! You're going for breakfast with the boss?” Sammy says looking shocked just as I am closing the door behind me. Her eyebrows become visible for the first time as they rise above her oversized glasses. 

Ignoring her, I shut the door, quickly grab the complimentary hotel toiletries from the small shelf above the sink and jump under the shower, it's utterly impossible to get the temperature right, either the water is scalding hot or freezing cold, there's no in between. I make quick work of cleaning myself and washing my hair, and secure a towel under my armpits whilst I brush my teeth before I head back out into the bedroom, where Sammy is still sitting sipping her tea, watching cartoons, occasionally giggling to herself as Road Runner outwits the Coyote once again. 

“Where's my suitcase?” I say to no one in particular as I glance around the tiny room. Hallway! I think as I suddenly remember Harry placing it there for me last night and rush out to grab it. I throw it open and rummage around trying to locate everything I need. Knickers.. bra.. what the hell does one wear to a breakfast meeting with your new boss whom you've already made a twat out of yourself in front of on no less than two occasions? 

“Black jeans and that white top there,” Sammy says helpfully pointing into the mass of clothes I've thrown all over the floor as if sensing my confusion. 

“Thanks,” I say as I rush back into the hallway out of her field of vision and start pulling on my clothes, throwing my hair up into a messy bun and dis-guarding the wet towel on the floor. 

“It's 10:54” Sammy calls out

“Alright talking clock I'm hurrying!” I fire back as I walk back into the main room and grab my make-up bag and stare at my reflection in the slightly tarnished mirror on the wall. Even the bags under my eyes seem to have bought their own carry on today. Shit.

“Are you going to tell me why on earth you are having breakfast with Harry?” Sammy asks again, edging to the end of the bed and tucking a couple of loose strands of my wet hair into my bun as I start to hurriedly dab on some concealer, which does bugger all to hide the bags, a little mascara and some lip gloss. That'll have to do I think to myself. 

“I dunno. Cos he asked?” 

“You're gonna have to do better than that Maddie,” Sammy says, spinning me around on the wheeled chair I am sitting on so that I am facing her. She lifts her sunglasses and places them on top of her head so that she can stare at me intimidatingly, ahh good the bags under her eyes are at least as big as mine. But then she doesn't have to go and have breakfast in the penthouse this morning does she? Why am I doing this again? I question myself as I stare into Sammy's inquisitive brown eyes. 

“I mentioned I'd not eaten much yesterday between the travelling, the interview, starting work.. the show... I just hadn't had much time and that's why the drink hit me so quick, and apparently, Harry wants to hear what I thought of his show, god knows why, so he asked me to go up to his room for breakfast. A breakfast that, if you don't let go of me, I am going to be late for” I add slightly more tetchily than I meant to as I push her hands off my thighs where they have been resting as she glares at me, stand and try to locate my shoes. 

“Hmm,” Sammy says

“Hmm, what?” 

“Hmm, I've never known any of the crew to go to H's room before. I mean we eat with him in Sarah's Kitchen from time to time but in his room? That's a new one on me” She clarifies

“Read your shirt, Sammy.” I say, gesturing to the large printed words written across her boobs “He's just being kind, isn't that kind of his thing? Now I really have to go!” 

“Ok Ok, meet me back here at 2:30 though ok so we can make sure we don't miss the bus,” she says tossing me my dead phone. “I'm sure Harry will have a charger you can borrow, what's your number?” 

I quickly program my phone number into Sammy's iPhone, which is covered in a Tweety bird case, not what I'd have expected from her at all but it does make the amount of enjoyment she's getting from the cartoons make more sense, and hand it back to her, shoving my feet into my trainers as I make my way down the hall. 

“Key!” Sammy shouts behind me, and I remember to grab the little credit card like contraption from its holder on the way out the door. 

“Crap” I hear Sammy mutter as all the lights go out in the room and she's plunged into semi-darkness and the TV switches itself off. I giggle to myself as I remember that in these kinds of rooms unless the key is safely tucked into its little wall nook thingy, nothing electric in the room will work, poor Sammy. I'm sure she's got her own room to go and lay about in through I think as I make my way down the hall to the lifts. 

“Can I help you?” A large balding man asks me as the lift doors slide open on to the top floor. 

“Er, I'm Maddie, Matilda  
Graham? I'm meant to be meeting Harry, er Mr Styles?” I tell him, hoping this is what he needs to hear. 

“Ah right, go ahead love, straight down the end there,” He says with a smile pointing down the hallway and looking much happier now that he's confirmed I am not some crazed stalker. The more time I spend immersed in Harry Styles world, the more I realise how much his privacy seems to be constantly at risk. 

I make my way down another short hallway to a large set of double doors and knock lightly. Please be awake. I mutter under my breath.


	9. Food at last. Still in Birmingham, England

“Trouble! You remembered. I'm impressed” Harry greets me with a hug as he opens the door, looks like that nickname has stuck already, great. “Please come in. I thought for sure I'd have to send Barry off to look for you” He says, flashing me a huge smile as he gestures for me to make my way into his suite. Harry is dressed in a loose-fitting yellow T-shirt with 'camel' etched over the pocket, funny, I wouldn't have pegged him as a smoker I think to myself as I enter, and a pair of black jeans.   
The room is... palatial. That's the only word I can come up with for it. It's bigger than my entire flat back home and every single piece of furniture seems to be made of shimmering glass or sleek black leather. I am almost scared to touch anything. As well paid as this job is.. I don't fancy having to give up half my salary to replace some stupidly over-priced trinket that I manage to bop off a shelf with my arse. 

“Sit, sit,” Harry says as he flops himself down onto a sofa and pats the seat next to him. “I'm impressed you got here on time” 

“Ahh well, you've got Sammy to thank for that. She started hammering my door down at some ungodly hour this morning and woke me up” 

“Ungodly? Jesus, how early did she get there?” He asks, his eyebrows shooting up in alarm. I feel the heat rising in my cheeks as I lower my eyes before answering him quietly. 

“Erm, like a half an hour ago” 

“Hahaha! Remind me not to wake you up early in future.” He chuckles “I hope you don't mind but I already ordered room service, I'm starving” 

Wake me up early? Why on earth would he ever be in a position to wake me up early I wonder.. nope, don't go there Mads, he's your boss, he's just being nice. 

“Not at all, although I am dying for a coffee, any chance we can call and ask them to bring me one?” I ask him, looking around for the phone to call reception

“Figured you might be, don't worry, already ordered” Harry reassures me and I notice that he never seems to break eye contact when your talking to him, it's like he wants to make sure you know that at that moment, you are the only thing he is concentrating on, even though I am sure that in a creative mind such as his, his thoughts are buzzing around at a hundred mile an hour, similar to the way mine do. 

“You might just turn out to be my favourite boss ever,” I say sincerely and curl my legs up underneath myself on the sofa

“Do I have much competition? What did you do before this?” He asks, his green eyes boring into mine, blimey that's quite intimidating. 

I wonder for a moment what I should tell him. I know I'm not supposed to let Jeff know about my singing 'career' if I can call it that when I am sat in Harry Styles penthouse hotel room... but is Harry off limits too? Fuck it, I am too hungover to lie and decide to just go with the truth. 

“Well, when I was 16 I worked at Greggs...” I begin 

“I used to work in a bakery too!” Harry chimes in excitedly before I can finish, how is he this energetic after being up half the night I think, shaking my head slightly in amusement at his interruption before continuing

“I didn't stick it out long, just a few months after my GCSE's finished until I was old enough to pass my driving test. Then I started gigging.” 

“Ahh, so it was a guitar case I spotted in your car last night then. It was kind of dark, but I thought it was” He says, turning slightly to face me on the chair and giving me his full attention “Where did you play?” 

“Anywhere, everywhere, basically anywhere that would have me. I've spent the best part of the last 4 years dragging my arse up and down the country just about making enough to cover my petrol costs. Lately I've been doing the holiday camp circuit.. which seems even more pathetic than usual now that I am explaining it to you of all people, especially after seeing your show last night” I admit and find myself lowering my eyes again, its difficult to hold his gaze for any length of time, I feel like he's staring straight into my soul. 

“Still you got to do what you love for a living right? Not many people are that lucky” He says before taking a deep breath and continuing “Believe me, no one is more surprised than me that this is my life” he finishes, gesturing around the plush hotel suite. 

“It's certainly an upgrade from the caravans I normally get shoved in if I need to stay at a venue overnight” I giggle, just as there is a knock at the door. Harry jumps up and I go to stand with him but he waves me away so I sit myself back down and wait patiently whilst he goes to retrieve what I assume is our breakfast, which at nearly 11:30 is really more of a brunch at this point. 

A liveried waiter pushes a large silver cart into the centre of the room which is covered in lots of silver cloches of varying sizes, as soon as the smell hits my nostrils a loud gurgle escapes my stomach, I hadn't realised how hungry I was. Harry returns a few moments later, having seen the waiter back out, makes his way over to a large wooden dining table at the far end of the room, pushing the little trolley in front of him. Suddenly I realise that this man is my boss, I shouldn't be sat on my arse whilst he sorts out my breakfast. I jump up quickly and make my way over to his side. 

“Have a seat” Harry says as I go to lift one of the many dishes from the trolley and he, yet again, waves me away, so I sit down and fold my arms, trying to resist the temptation to offer to help anymore. “I wasn't sure what you like, or what you'd be in the mood for. So I pretty much ordered a bit of everything” He says and starts removing the covers from the various dishes, placing two pre-warmed circular white plates onto the table and handing me a large, steaming mug of black coffee. 

“Thank you, you really didn't have to go to any trouble though. I'll pretty much eat anything. Especially when it's free” I joke as I take a sip of the coffee. The hot liquid burns as it hits my tongue but I don't care, I'm desperate for the caffeine. 

As Harry takes the seat opposite me and starts helping himself to a variety of fruits and what appears to be muesli of some kind, I dive straight at a plate of bacon and eggs and start wolfing it down at top speed. So engrossed in my food that it takes me a few moments before I realise Harry is staring at me, open-mouthed. 

“What?” I say, swallowing a too large mouthful of scrambled eggs and nearly choking myself. I glug down a glass of nearby juice to try and prevent a coughing fit and help it go down. 

“Nothing. It's just... most of the women I spend time with don't tend to have such healthy appetites. Makes a nice change” Harry says, looking at me with concern as I try to cough subtely.

“That is not a problem I suffer from Mr Styles,” I say with a smile, if he's going to insist on calling me 'Trouble' then I shall stick with calling him Mr Styles I decide, quite pleased with myself at this idea I let out a small laugh and Harry shoots me another confused look.

“So, er, are you ever going to tell me what you thought of the show? Or are you purposefully trying to antagonise me?” Harry asks after a few moments of silence and when I glance up, I notice small creases have appeared between his eyebrows, is he really concerned about my opinion? 

“I..well... this is a bit awkward” I start, placing my knife and fork down carefully and maintaining a strict poker face. “You are my boss after all... “

“I knew it. Shit. It's ok, I can take it. Hit me. And be honest” He says, looking determined to hear whatever the worst may be that I can throw at him. 

I try, I really really do try, to keep a straight face for as long as is humanly possible. But I swear a trained war vet would struggle not to crack under the intensity of those green eyes, especially now that there is a hint of trepidation in them. I feel my face break into a broad smile as I finally put the poor lad out of his misery. 

“I can't believe you even have to ask! It was amazing! Honestly. I've been to a lot of shows, a lot a lot. In fact the last band I saw at that arena were the Eagles, so you had a lot to live up to. But honestly, it's like you were born to be up on that stage. I've rarely seen anyone so at ease with themselves and the crowd. And I swear to god you had them eating out of the palm of your hand. Ya know, the girls next to me were live streaming the event on the internet and they had over 2000 people watching their fuzzy little video” 

As I speak I can visibly see Harry relax, he leans back in his chair, his shoulders lower, and his chest expands as he takes in a long breath, the apprehension in his eyes disappears as fast as it arrived and a small smirk starts to creep across his lips until a full smile breaks through and a dimple pops in his cheek. 

“Really?” 

“Yeah really, I was amazed too. I mean who watches a concert being filmed god knows how many miles away on someone's phone?” I say quickly and Harry laughs, deep and fully. 

“Not the stream! You! You really enjoyed it?” 

“Oh! Of course, I did. I reckon you'd have to be blind, deaf and dumb not to to be honest.” 

“Even though I was prancing around singing about sucking dick?” Harry chuckles, taking a swig of his own coffee which doesn't quite manage to hide his smirk 

“God, I'm never living that down am I?” 

“Not a chance Trouble. Not a chance” 

“In my defence, I never said there was anything wrong with singing about sucking dick” I tease him and am rewarded by a tiny piece of muesli hitting me square on the nose as a laugh escapes his lips unexpectedly. 

We chat amiably for the rest of our meal, Harry quizzes me on what my favourite songs were from the show, whether or not I thought the crowd enjoyed it, he even teases me about my slight interest from last night about his guitarist, who he readily informs me is “all loved up” with his drummer, I guess that's what Sammy meant earlier by her “Even the band are at it” comment. 

By the time I have demolished a large pile of scrambled eggs, several rashers of bacon and a couple of banana pancakes, I feel like I am about ready to explode and sit back heavily in my chair, resting my hands on my stomach. As I move, my phone tumbles out of my pocket and hits the floor with a dull thud. Thank god the carpets are thick in here I think as I scramble to pick it up. 

“Ooh I meant to ask, have you got a charger? Seems I neglected to plug my phone in last night and it died a death” 

“Sure hang on,” Harry says and goes wandering out of the room through a connecting door, which I can only assume leads to the bedroom area of the suite. He returns a few moments later, charger in hand and plugs it into a nearby wall socket, taking my phone from me and plugging it in. 

“Aerosmith huh?” He asks, spotting my case. “And your also a fan of the Eagles?” 

“Yup. Basically anything rocky is right up my alley, give me a good electric guitar riff and a decent drummer and I'm yours” I quip 

“I did both those things last night...” Harry says seriously, but I'm not falling for that again. 

“You already tried to play that joke on me last night remember? Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, shame on me” I recite the well-known phrase that my mother parroted to me and Michael a hundred times when we tried to pull the wool over her eyes as kids. 

“Hmph, you're no fun.” Harry pouts “Is that the kind of music you play then? Rock?” 

“Ha! I wish. Mostly I play cheesy 80's hits and crowd pleasers. For example, I happen to do a kick arse 'Story of my life'” I say proudly, puffing out my chest slightly as Harry and I take our seats back on the sofa. “My own stuff has more of an acoustic vibe I guess, I'm somewhat lacking in a band to play anything more intricate.”

“You'll have to play it for me sometime” Harry smiles and I half nod, not committing either way.

We spend the rest of our time just getting to know one and other a bit and I find, to my surprise that he is a completely normal 24 year old man, who just so happens to have an extra-ordinary job, which he barely talks about. Preferring to chat about his hobbies and the latest movies he's seen, I try to ask about a war film I remember he did recently, but he quickly changes the subject, seems he's not one to brag about his achievements which is nice and unexpected, most blokes I know are more than happy to go on and on.. and ON about scoring a goal in a local 5 a-side match and god knows Harry has much more impressive things he could focus on, but he doesn't, I feel like I've spent most of our time together answering questions about myself as he deftly dodges mine.

The time passes quickly as I fill him in about how I came to get this job, where I grew up and my family and before I know it the gold edged clock on the wall reads 2:20pm and it's time for me to head back to my room and meet Sammy. 

“I better get back, the buses will be leaving before long and I need to pack yet. And work out what the hell I'm meant to do with my car” 

“Well, that's easy enough. You can leave the car here for a couple of days, and I can drop you off to get it on the way down to the London shows on Tuesday morning and you can drive it down” he suggests like him giving me a lift from Manchester to Birmingham is the most normal thing in the world. He really needs to get a better grip on this whole pop star malarkey. 

“I couldn't ask you to do that,” I say as I stand and go to retrieve my phone from the charger

“Let me get that.” Harry insists and bounds up off the sofa and across the room before I've even made it to my feet. Seriously, is this guy the Duracell bunny or something? I can barely move after all that food and all I can think about is getting on the bus and catching a quick nap before we arrive in Manchester and he's bouncing about all over the place.

“Anyways you didn't ask, I offered. It's no trouble really, it's not even that far out of the way in the grand scheme of things” Harry says, his back to me as he bends to get my phone and I have to really concentrate to make sense of his muted words. 

“Well if you're sure, it would be a big help. I was hoping to find some time whilst we were down south to pop home and grab some more clothes, I honestly didn't expect to get the job so I barely bought anything with me and I'm gonna run out of knickers by Tuesday” I say brazenly, before I remember that this isn't one of my girlfriends I am chatting to. “Shit I'm sorry, my mouth runs away from me sometimes” 

“Haha it's fine, you realise you nearly got through this whole brunch without swearing? Right up until that very shit” 

“Fuck! I did, didn't I? How bloody annoying” I curse, then realising what I've done, slap a hand over my mouth. “Sorry!” 

“Again, its fine, really. It's nice actually, you don't put on any kind of act just cos you're around me do you?” He asks, his eyebrows knitting together again as he turns to face me finally, my phone outstretched in his hand. 

“Why would I?” I ask him bemused, pop-star or not, I am what I am as the delightful Shirley Bassey would sing. 

“No reason.” He says quickly.

“Thank you for brunch Mr Styles,” I say sticking out my hand, which he bats away as I knew he would pulling me in for a quick hug, a slight scowl on his face from the use of his more formal title.

“You're welcome Trouble.” He fires back with added emphasis on the 'Trouble' “Now get out of here or you'll miss the bus. I'll see you in Manchester” 

And with that, I head off back to my room. My hangover finally subsiding thanks to the food and coffee, and reactively pleased that I've managed to spend a couple of hours in Harry's presence without falling over. Go me! This is progress.


	10. Manchester, England. Part one

“Time to get up Kiddo” I hear Clark's voice penetrate into my dreams and my eyes snap open in horror, why is Clark waking me up?? It takes me a few seconds to take in my surroundings and remember that I am not safely tucked up at home in my own bed, with or without Clark. But on a huge bus full of people. That explains the uncomfortable neck cramp then. Urgh. 

“Are we there already?” I ask Clark dozily, watching as he pulls both of our suitcases out of the overhead luggage racks 

“Nope, we're in Mexico actually. You've been asleep for over a month” He says dryly, but catching sight of the unamused expression on my face, he quickly turns serious “Yes we're in Manchester you goof, however, if we stay on this bus much longer, I wouldn't like to say where we'll end up” 

I look around the rest of the oversized vehicle and realise that Clark and I are the only passengers left on board, even the driver seems to have vacated his post. I'm surprised that all the hustle and bustle of twenty-odd people disembarking didn't wake me up, I guess I really was tired. 

“Ok ok, I'm moving. Where's Sammy?” I ask as I pull myself up out of my chair and glance at the empty seat beside me as I start to follow Clark down the long passageway between the seats up to the front of the bus. 

“She went to go get our room keys, it's always a bit of pot luck who you get as a room-mate, so one of us always tries to get to reception asap and perform any necessary swaps” He says as he reaches the tarmac of the very large and very full car park we have arrived in behind an imposing looking hotel. I'm not surprised when he continues off straight towards the building without so much as glancing back to see if I need a hand with my bags. With a sigh, I heave my suitcase down the steep stairs and make my way after him. 

“Here you go,” Sammy says handing Clark a plastic key card “You're sharing with Tom, best I could do I'm afraid, but its better than Stephen the snorer again at least” She adds semi-apologetically, Clark nods in acceptance and bids us goodbye, making his way off to his room. 

“Have I got a roommate this time around? Please tell me it's not someone with really bad BO or something” I ask Sammy. As I joined the last show so late the only option was to get me my own room as there were no spare beds, but Paul warned me it would probably be the last time I'd get a room to myself for a while so I should make the most of it. In hindsight, he probably didn't mean by spending most of the night in the bar before passing out in a heap on top of the covers.. but never mind. You live and learn right. 

“You did indeed! And because I am such an awesome friend, I have ensured you are shacked up with simply the best person possible” She gloats as I stick out my hand and wait patiently for her to hand me my key card. 

“Oh? I figured Harry would have his own room, to be honest” I tease, already sensing where she is going with this. 

“Cheeky cow!” Sammy exclaims, pressing her hands over her heart as if I have physically wounded her. 

“Tell you what, if you buy me dinner tonight then I'll think about upgrading you. Harry did only provide breakfast after all..” 

“Is that really all he provided? Hmmmm??” Sammy asks, wiggling her eyebrows at me

“Of course it is!!” I exclaim it's my turn to be offended now “Jeez, do you really think that on my second day here I went to bed with the star of the show? We just had brunch Sammy, that. Was. All.” I say, punctuating each word to try and ensure she understands. “Besides, I really don't think I'm his type” 

“Ha!” She barks loudly making me jump slightly “Everyone is H's type. Come on, let's go find our room” 

A few hours later and I am lying on my bed strumming lightly on my guitar whilst Sammy takes a shower, the thin door to the en-suite doing absolutely nothing to stop her off-key singing from reverberating around the room. As much as I teased her about it though, I am pleased that we are getting to share, there aren't that many women on the crew and I haven't really had the chance to speak to many of the others yet, so not sure how comfy I would feel sharing a room with any of them. 

Sammy comes bounding out of the shower a few minutes later, her mass of wet blonde hair leaving tiny droplets of water on the floor in her wake as she makes her way over to the small desk in the room and starts pulling open the various draws. 

“Don't suppose you've got a hair dryer tucked away in there do ya? Mine packed up in Munich and I've not gotten around to replacing it yet” She asks, nodding towards my unpacked suitcase next to my bed. 

“Sammy... I don't even have enough underwear to last me till we get back to London, let alone a hair-dryer I'm afraid. What do you need one for anyway? Don't we have the night off?” I ask her somewhat confused. I had assumed we would be spending the evening in our room eating copious amounts of room service, to be honest, and that doesn't require perfectly styled hair. 

“Didn't I tell you? Everyone's heading out for drinks tonight as there's no show. So you should probably get your arse in the shower. I think I left you some hot water” She informs me

“Urgh, I'm not sure I'm up for another night of drinking..” I begin, placing my fingers to my temples in an involuntary gesture and remembering my hangover from this morning, but Sammy abruptly cuts me off. 

“Nope, don't even start that, you need to come! You've barely met anyone yet, and there's no better place to get to know your workmates than in a bar over a few beers” Sammy tells me

Semi-reluctantly I pull myself up off the bed and place my battered old pink guitar back in its case, propping it up carefully against the wall before heading into the bathroom to shower. By the time I return Sammy is fully dressed, wearing a bright purple mini dress and sky-high stilettos which make her slim, tanned legs look as though they are ten feet long, her blonde hair is perfectly styled in loose waves and she is just adding the finishing touches to her make-up. 

“Wow, you look... amazing!” I tell her astonished, it's not that I hadn't realised she's pretty, but up until now, all I'd seen Sammy wearing were jeans and t-shirts, I had no idea she was hiding such a great figure underneath them. 

“Why thank you,” She says, giving me a mini curtsey in appreciation. “Did you bring any dresses with you? Or do you need to borrow one?” she asks uncertainly, which is fair really considering I've already demonstrated how badly planned I am for this trip 

“Erm a couple, but they are really more formal...” I say, making my way over to my suitcase and starting to pull out the various items inside, I hold up the two dresses that I shoved in the car as an afterthought before I left home and screw up my nose slightly when I see the deep creases lining both of them. 

“Yeah, those are just not going to do. Don't worry, I have just the thing” Sammy tells me 

For the next hour, Sammy pokes and prods at me relentlessly to the point where I am seriously starting to rethink our burgeoning friendship. She straightens and styles my hair, plucks my wayward eyebrows, seems to spend an absolute age applying various powders and liquids to my face.. and all of this without once letting me near a mirror. I am partially dozing again as she buckles the straps on a pair of sky-high black heels and gives me one last look over before pulling me out of my chair and dragging me towards the semi-full length mirror outside the bathroom door. 

“Ta-da!” She says proudly as she removes her hands from in front of my eyes and finally lets me get a glimpse at her handy-work. 

“Erm, wow. Ok.. did you hang a picture over the mirror?” I ask her as I step closer to the glass to inspect what I am sure is my own face as I can feel myself touching it gingerly, not wanting to disrupt the makeup she has applied, but it looks different... I'm still me, but it's like I am more polished, shiny version of myself. My tired skin is glowing, my eyes sparkle against the dark eye-shadow across my lids which contrasts wonderfully with the silver eyeliner she has applied in the perfect flick across the tops, my lips are plump and glossy and my long chocolate brown hair curls perfectly around my shoulders. The bandeau style black dress with silver accents hugs my curves wonderfully. 

“I look... hot!” I exclaim loudly teasingly pouting into the mirror at Sammy's reflection “Seriously woman your talents are wasted building stages and setting up catwalks! Why don't you do this as a career?” I ask, turning to face her and gesturing to myself. 

“One day maybe. You think you're the only one with dreams guitar girl?” she throws back with a wink “C'mon time to move our beautiful arses” She says and holds out her arm. Grabbing my bag, I slip my arm through hers and we make our way down to the lobby. Feeling like a million bucks.


	11. Manchester, England. Part two

When we arrive at a nearby bar I do a mini headcount and I am surprised to see that pretty much all the crew, even Paul, are already in attendance, I think I can even see Jeff seated down the other end of the large room he is wearing a checked shirt which he has left open over a navy blue T-shirt and jeans and looks much more casual than he did the last time I saw him. He has his arm slung over the shoulders of a pretty petite brunette who is staring at him adoringly, I guess she must be his other half. 

Thankfully the bar is quite spacious, all soft lighting, plush white leather chairs and semi-circular booths, each holding half a dozen people, all of whom are surrounded by multitudes of drinks. At one end of the tiled dance floor stands a DJ booth and next to it, a couple of screens and microphones have been set up, Karaoke... Great. 

Not to sound like some snobby cow or anything.. but I am unsure there is anything worse than listening to your usually very drunk-at-the-time-friends, or in the case I guess co-workers, warbling their way through an Adele hit, missing all but one of the high notes, but looking for all the world like they think they are doing a better job than she ever could. Or doing a corny Elvis impression complete with lip-curl and hip thrust... no matter how old they are or how inappropriate it may be. I shudder slightly and promise myself that I will not drink enough tonight to become even remotely tempted to join in.

“Hey there gorgeous” a deep voice proclaims in a London accent as its owner slides up next to Sammy and slips an arm around her slender waist. “And who's your friend?” the man asks, he has kind eyes and spiky brown hair which has way too much product in it I notice. 

“Freddie this is Maddie, she's our new crew member and because I am just such a wonderful person, I have taken her firmly under my wing,” Sammy tells him 

Hmm so this is the guy Sammy spent the night with, I realise as he leans forward and kisses me lightly on the cheek. I have to swallow a cough that threatens to explode from my throat as I get a whiff of the cheap aftershave he seems to have doused himself in before coming out, someone really needs to tell this guy that less is more... 

“Poor you, good to meet you though Maddie,” Freddie says in my ear with a smirk

“Nice to meet you too,” I say politely with a smile. 

“Let me get you, girls, a drink” Freddie offers and, once he's established what we want, heads over to the bar. 

“So that's Freddie huh?” I round on Sammy 

“Yeah yeah I know.. I told you, not usually my type. He's a nice guy at heart though” she replies and I feel instantly cruel, I shouldn't be making assumptions about people based on their appearance. 

“I'm sure he is! He's buying us drinks after all” I say quickly, mollified. 

The next couple of hours pass in a blur of new names, handshakes, hugs and polite air kisses as Sammy parades me around the bar and introduces me to seemingly every single member of the crew. By the time we make our way back over to Freddie and his little group sat in one of the booths my feet are absolutely killing me and I am wishing I'd thought to bring my converse. 

“Having a good night kiddo?” Clark's voice interrupts my thoughts as I slide into the booth and slip off my shoes, rubbing the soles of my aching feet. 

“It's great! I'm a little overwhelmed though, there's no possible way I am going to remember everyone's names” I admit 

“Ahh I know right, when I first got here I was completely lost. You wanna know what I did?” He asks and I nod in response “I came up with little nicknames for everyone based on their personal appearance which would remind me of their names. For example, see that guy over there with the jet black hair? Well, that's Mark. And I remember that cos, Mark's hair is dark. Get it?”

Giggling slightly I take another sip of my rum and coke before answering, “You're a genius Clark” 

“Shots! Shot's for everyone!” Freddie suddenly exclaims as he arrives back from the bar holding what looks to be a large plank of wood with several glasses sticking out of it that's got to be over three feet long. “Ladies first!” he says motioning to me and Sammy, two other girls whose names I've already forgotten stand up from the opposite end of the booth and walk to Freddie s side. 

“We're gonna have to get a little bit closer ladies, like this,” he says, pulling the girls close up to his side, Sammy has already positioned herself against his other shoulder and is looking at me intently. 

As I step forward I see that the plank of wood is actually a shot holder, and it seems that the idea is we'll all stand in a line and simultaneously down the small glasses of lurid green liquid as one. I wonder how much of it I'm going to actually manage to swallow, and just how much is going to end up down the front of the dress I am wearing. Hmm, I wonder if Sammy will be mad when it does, but before I can protest she has pulled me closer to her and is joining in with Freddie counting down. 

“Three, two, one DRINK!” They shout in unison, the glass nearest me rushes up towards my face and I quickly open my mouth and feel the sour tasting liquid slide down my throat, shuddering slightly at the strong apple taste but mostly, just grateful that I managed to catch it all and am not now wearing it. 

“Clark? You're up mate!” The DJ calls down the microphone several shots later and Clark stumbles to his feet, slightly unsteady. The first few people who've braved the mic haven't been too bad I must admit. A couple of girls did a fun take on a little mix song that I vaguely recognise and there was the obligatory rendition of Ring of Fire, mixed in with a few random others. But I have a feeling that dear Clark is about to prove my point about Karaoke. I've known this man for more years than I care to remember and as far as I am aware, I've never heard him sing...

By the end of the first verse of Meat loafs classic 'I would do anything for love' I have to admit I am pleasantly surprised! Whilst Clark isn't going to be taking over Harry's shows anytime soon, he can definitely hold a tune and his voice really suits the track. I am happily singing along with Sammy as we sit perched at the end of the booth a few feet away from Clark, exaggerating every hand gesture and cheering him on at the top of our lungs. 

As Clark belts out the penultimate chorus, I notice him start towards our table and a cold shiver runs down my spine. He's staring straight at me, crooking his finger in my direction and with a sinking feeling I remember, there's a female section in this track, and I realise exactly what his plan is. Dammit. I'm completely trapped between Sammy and one of the runners, George, and I know there is absolutely no way for me to escape. Just as Clark belts out the final “No I won't do that” I suck in a deep breath, he nods at me and pushes the microphone into my face

“Will you raise me up?   
Will you help me down?   
Will you help get me right out of this Godforsaken town?  
Will you make it all a little less cold?”

I begin tentatively, as much as I adore singing and this is one of my favourite songs, this really wasn't the introduction I wanted to give my fellow crew members on our first night out together. As I launch into the second verse, grateful that the DJ isn't playing the extended version of the song, my eyes scan the bar and seem to lock uncontrollably with the one person in the room who wasn't supposed to know about my love of singing. Jeff. 

“Will you cater to every fantasy I've got?   
Will you hose me down with holy water- if I get too hot?  
Will you take me places I'll never know?”

Shit. I watch as he stares back at me, eyebrows knitted together in confusion, no doubt trying to remember who I am as he only met me for a short time the other day and I've not seen him since. Thankfully, as if sensing my discomfort, Clark leans across Sammy to shout out his next lines into the mic which I am now holding, obscuring me from Jeff's vision, well, in for a penny, in for a pound, I think to myself as the number of shots I've consumed give me courage and I belt out the last few lines, staring deep into Clark's eyes and running a finger over his stubbly cheek in mock affection, giving it everything I've got;

“I know the territory – I've been around  
It'll all turn to dust and we'll all fall down  
Sooner or later you'll be screwing around” 

The last few bars of the track fade out as I harmonise the final lyrics with Clark, who has a huge satisfied grin plastered across his bloody face, clearly enjoying this. Sammy's scream is the first thing I hear, but it's soon interrupted by the loudest wolf whistle I have ever heard it cuts through every other sound in the room and most of the people around us fall silent. The owner of the said whistle strides towards me purposefully with his fingers in his mouth. Shit. How did I fail to notice he was here? I wonder, but as seems to have become a habit for me every time I get in close proximity to this green-eyed man, the only words I can manage to utter are a string of four-letter ones. Fuck.


	12. Till now, I always got by on my own

“Ooh watch out, here comes the boss” Freddie quips from his seat at the end of the table, and I see him rise up out of his chair and give Harry a manly handshake/half hug, you know the way men do. I take a moment to take in Harry's appearance, he's wearing a dark T-shirt and jeans, his hair is perfectly styled in that 'just rolled out of bed' look that he pulls off so well and I'm amazed I didn't spot him earlier. 

The atmosphere around the table changes slightly as Harry and Freddie chat amicably, and it's clear that no matter how normally Harry behaves, very few people seem able to differentiate between Harry the superstar and Harry the 24-year-old guy who grew up just down the road from this very bar. Every laugh is just a little bit too loud, every greeting a little too enthusiastic, I swear I can see the eyes of the other women around the table clouding over slightly as they gaze at his lithe form in front of them, his comment about how I don't put on an act for him from breakfast makes much more sense and I suddenly feel strangely protective towards him, it must be exhausting feeling like no one ever truly relaxes in your company. 

As Sammy makes her way over to the bar with Clark to buy him a congratulatory drink, I see Harry extricate himself from his conversation with Freddie out of the corner of my eye and make his way over to my end of the booth. When he catches my eye he begins a slow clap, which he keeps up, right until he slides into the now empty space beside me, where there isn't enough room for him to be honest, Sammy and I have been half sitting on each other's laps in a space that's really only designed to fit one person, so he has to squeeze his thigh right up against mine in order to balance himself on the remaining space and the heat of him pressed against me is somewhat overwhelming. 

“Well well well. That was quite something” He says with a smile and I feel the heat rising into my cheeks. 

“Thanks, erm, Clark kind of blindsided me. I had absolutely no intention of singing tonight” I admit 

“I can't imagine why you wouldn't, with a voice like that, you should be up on every stage you go near! Except for mine of course. I'm a bit of a narcissist.. not sure I'm quite ready to share the limelight with someone who sounds like that, to be honest.” Harry says nudging my shoulder gently with his own.

“Ha! I'm pretty sure your job is safe don't worry, although... who says I'd lower myself to sharing a stage with you anyways?” I tease him, finally regaining my confidence after his unexpected appearance. 

“Ooh, feisty. I'll have you know that sharing a stage with me is a very pleasant experience. I've got a few mates I can call who'll back me up if you'd like..?” he fires back not missing a beat. 

“Ahh yes, please, call up your boyband friends to prove your point. Maybe you're just having trouble filling that big stage by yourself eh? Missing your partners in crime?” I ask him, batting my eyelashes slightly to take the sting out of my words as I place the straw from my drink between my teeth and take a hearty sip. 

“Ouch Trouble! That hurt! I'm wounded” Harry complains, pressing his hands over his heart “There was me just trying to give you a compliment” 

“Aww I'm sorry, did I hurt the big rock-stars feelings? Don't worry, this time tomorrow there will be nigh-on twenty thousand people screaming your name at the tops of their lungs, I'm sure they'll be able to piece your fragile ego back together” I mock him relentlessly. I'm probably pushing my luck a little bit, but he did say he liked that I didn't put on an act, and after seeing how the other crew members react to him, I am even more determined to just be myself and this is how I act with all my friends. A healthy dose of banter is good in all relationships. 

To my great relief, Harry lets out one of his hearty little boys laughs and doesn't look remotely offended as he leans across and takes my glass from my hand, and downs the rest of my rum and coke in one. 

“You seem to have run out of alcohol,” He says nonchalantly as he places the glass back on the table and wipes the back of his mouth with his hand. 

“Bars over there” I replied cheekily, pointing across to the other side of the room. “I'd say as you, very rudely I might add, just polished off MY drink, that you owe me another” 

I'm not sure how much time passes whilst me and Harry stand chatting at the end of the bar, but I know I manage to consume another two drinks and a large glass of water whilst we laugh and joke together happily and I am surprised to find myself realising, as I watch Harry swirl his own drink around in its glass, that he and I are actually becoming friends. Not what I expected from this tour at all. 

“So c'mon, are you gonna grace us with another song before they close up for the night?” Harry asks me, glancing down at the screen on his phone to check the time “Half hour left 'till closing!” 

“Which one of us here is the professional? I don't see you running over to put your name down!” I tease him

“That's different, most of the people in here have to listen to me sing day in day out, whereas I'd hazard a guess that the only person who's heard you perform properly is, Clark, after his little stunt earlier,” He says

“Yeah.. remind me to hit him for that later would you? He's a git. He totally did that on purpose, he's not actually heard me sing since my brothers last big birthday party a few years back” I tell him

“No chance! I couldn't be happier that he made you do that, otherwise god knows when I'd have gotten to hear you sing.” He says 

“He could have picked a better place, I was warned by like.. everyone, that I shouldn't let Jeff know about my aspirations to be a singer, I was doing an ok job of that right up until Clark shoved that microphone under my nose” 

“Ah don't worry about Jeff, honestly, he's a good guy. A little protective sure, but I'll talk to him” Harry reassures me. “Actually, I should probably go back and check in with him really” 

“I do seem to have stolen you away somewhat, sorry, you should get back over to your friends” I agree

“I'm with one of my friends now.” He says, staring deep into my eyes and for a moment I forget how to breathe, I wonder if he realises just how intimidating it is when he does that. I shake my head slightly to clear the fog settling over me as he continues “But I am being rude, it was great talking to you Maddie” he says and drains his drink before making his way back down to the other end of the bar, stopping for a moment to have a quick chat to the DJ on his way. 

“Bathroom. Now!” Sammy's voice screams into my ear, seemingly having appeared from nowhere, she thrusts her hand into mine and literally yanks me off in the direction of the ladies, causing me to slip and slide slightly on the highly polished dance floor in my heels and make me wish I'd left my shoes off earlier. 

“What on earth...” I question as she spins me around to face her and begins to check under the stall doors for feet, a few moments later, seemingly satisfied with her search, she hops up onto the counter next to the sink and puts her head in her hands. 

“I kissed Freddie” She mumbles through her fingers and I have to strain my ears to hear her over the volume of the latest karaoke track, someone, or more accurately, several someones are singing “You'll Never Walk Alone” At the top of their lungs, brave choice to sing the Liverpool Football club anthem in a Manchester bar I think to myself as I shout back to Sammy 

“So? You already slept with him... What difference does it make if you kiss him? Am I missing something?” I ask her, utterly confused. 

“You don't get it! I wanted to kiss him! Like, really wanted to!” She admits, finally taking her hands away from her face and looking me in the eye. 

“Ah, I see. Well, that complicates things. Do you like him then?” I ask jumping up onto the counter next to her and immediately regretting it as I feel what I hope is just tap water, seeping through the thin fabric of my dress. 

“I.. No!! I mean, I don't think so. I can't can I? It's Freddie for fuck's sake. And, I can't get into a relationship with another member of the crew!” She wails loudly

“Sammy, honey, you're drunk. And I think you're really overreacting here. Why don't we go and get you a glass of water and then we'll get a cab back to the hotel and talk all this out?” I suggest, rubbing her back with my hand. 

Sammy nods unhappily and darts into a stall to grab some toilet roll, dabbing it under her eyes to mop up the few tears she has shed, whilst trying not to disrupt her mascara. I notice idly that the music outside has stopped, thank god for that. Hopping down off the counter I glance into the large mirrors above the sinks and make a pitiful attempt to tame my hair with my fingers, my perfectly styled 'do' from earlier seems to have somewhat collapsed. 

“Did you hear that?” Sammy asks 

“Hear what?” 

“I thought I heard.. never mind,” she says and goes back to fixing her own hair 

With a sigh I pull my lip gloss from my bag and place the wand to my lips.. but the moment I do the door to the bathroom crashes open with a loud smash, making me jump and wipe lip gloss all over my teeth. Wonderful. 

“What the fuck Clark!” Sammy shouts as Clark appears in the now very open doorway. 

“They're calling you Kiddo,” He says with a smile

“Erm, who's calling me for what now?” I ask him, perplexed, as I try and rub the lip gloss off with my index finger. “C'mon!” He replies and grabs my wrist, pulling me out of the door

“What is with you people manhandling me tonight? Do you not think I can walk??” I chastise him unhappily, rubbing my wrist when he finally let's go, and that's when I see the DJ standing, arm outstretched, proffering me a microphone. Over his shoulder, seated right at the back of the room with Jeff and a  
few friends, I see Harry flash me a huge smile, before raising his glass in the air as if to toast me. And I realise I've been set up. Again. Shit. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” I say, too loudly, the microphone which is now just inches from my mouth reverberates the words all around the bar and the majority of the crowd collapse into fits of giggles. Excellent work Mads. “Sorry,” I say again, taking the microphone and speaking directly into it this time. I don't want to be a killjoy or get a reputation for being no fun so I grasp the microphone a little more tightly and prepare myself “Erm, would someone like to at least tell me what I'm singing?” I ask no one in particular, and the DJ very helpfully points at the screen, not two feet in front of me which already has the track loaded, one I am assuming Harry picked out. 

Sighing I look over my shoulder to throw one last dirty look at Mr Styles as the opening bars begin to play, but of course, he's no longer sat half the bar away safely hidden away with Jeff and firmly out of my eye line. But standing just off to my right, flanked by Freddie, Clark and Sammy. The latter of whom both have their phones held up in front of their faces, clearly recording me. 

I just about manage to give them all what I hope is a withering look before the vocals kick in, at least its a song I know well. 

“I hear the ticking of the clock,   
I'm lying here the rooms pitch dark.   
I wonder where you are tonight,  
No answer on the telephone. 

But the night goes by so very slow,   
Oh, I hope that it won't end though  
Alone. 

'Till now I always got by on my own  
I never really cared until I met your  
And now it chills me to the bone  
How do I get you alone?  
How do I get you alone?” 

As Hearts 80's rock ballad blares around the room, I do my best not to look at my little fan club, who are now all stood swaying in unison and cheering as I belt out the high notes. As I reach the final chorus I take a deep breath and focus my eyes on the green emergency exit sign above the main door, letting my mind drift as I sing the last few bars and starting to mentally plan how best to get my revenge on a certain curly haired rock-star.


	13. On the road... again

“Am I going to be safe alone in the car with you tomorrow? or should I bring security? H x” 

I'm laying in bed in my hotel room in Manchester desperately trying to sleep through Sammy's insanely loud snores, seriously I don't know how anyone on our entire floor is managing to get any sleep tonight, when a message pops up on my screen, completely derailing me and making me crash and burn out of the level of Piano tiles that I was crushing not two seconds ago. Dammit! H? I am assuming that's got to be Harry... How did he even get my number? 

Closing my game in frustration I flick open my messages and see that not only does Harry have my number, but his appears to be saved on my phone, or at least I assume it's his, the name on the contact reads “Arry Tyles” What the... 

“Given you were already on thin ice after your little stunt the other night, and now I find out that you've somehow procured my phone number... I'd say security would be a sensible way to go Arry Tyles?? x” 

The response comes back almost instantly. 

“Eak! I may have stored my number in your phone when I took it off charge in my room in Birmingham and called myself so I'd have yours. Don't be mad! I figured putting my real name was a little obvious.. besides, this way I'm the first contact in your phone book! Genius huh? H x” 

“I'm not entirely sure that's the word I'd use. Besides, I have a friend called Aaron, sooo you're still second. Sorry to disappoint Mr Tyles x”

“Dammit! A tiny flaw in an otherwise perfectly thought out plan. But you're still responding so I guess you aren't too mad at least. We still on for tomorrow? Can I meet you at the back exit at 11? H x” 

“Back exit? You get how that sounds right? Jeez Tyles at least offer to buy me dinner first x” 

“Har Har, always the comedian aren't you? Do you still want a ride or not? H ” 

Shit, no kiss.. seems my smart mouth may have gotten a bit too carried away this time. Or smart fingers I guess? God it's too late for this crap I think to myself, glancing at the clock on the phone, 3:25 am. Urgh. 

“Sorry, I'm cranky, It seems that unbeknownst to me when I agreed to room with her, Sammy snores and I don't think I've gotten more than a couple of hours sleep since we arrived in Manchester, I'm exhausted. I'd be very grateful for a lift if you are sure you don't mind X” 

“You do get that normal people don't use words like 'unbeknownst' when they are cranky right? Or any other time for that matter... Remind me to pick you up some earplugs. See you at 11. I hope you get some rest. H xx” 

“When did I ever say I was normal? See you then x” 

I quickly set an alarm for 10 am groaning as I do so, I really wasn't exaggerating to Harry about the lack of sleep I've had, I'm so tired I reckon I could sleep for at least a week and I am seriously considering driving back to my own flat after takedown of the first London show in order to get a good nights sleep in my own bed. I've got to find time to go over there anyways so that seems as good a time as any other and I'm guaranteed lighter traffic at 3 am if nothing else. 

As much as I gave him a hard time for it, I'm glad Harry text tonight, I haven't had the chance to speak to him since we left the bar and I was starting to wonder if he was still ok to give me a lift back to Birmingham. By the time I finished my impromptu karaoke performance on Sunday night, Sammy's emotions seemed to have reached fever pitch, or possibly she'd had another couple of shots whilst I was singing and they'd tipped her over the edge... but either way, she had thrown her arms around my neck the moment the song had ended and begged me to bring her back to our room before she did something stupid with Freddie.. again, so we left in quite a hurry and I didn't get a chance to find Mr Styles and have words with him about his little stunt. I had planned to try and speak to him before the show today, but I was so exhausted after Sammy's snores kept me up all night that I basically just hid away under my duvet right up until I had to go to the arena, and then I only saw Harry for long enough to wave hello at him as he started soundcheck. 

I'm relieved that he's still happy to drive me down to Birmingham tomorrow, the idea of hours sat on a packed train fills me with absolutely no enthusiasm whatsoever, and I'm sure whatever car he's got is going to be a much more comfortable ride.. maybe I can even sneak in a little bit more sleep. Urgh, sleep... I really really need to sleep!! Rolling over onto my back I thrust my earphones deep into my ears and press play on Harry's album, making sure to untick the heavier songs from the playlist. Hopefully, his husky voice can dull out Sammy's incessant snores and lull me into oblivion. 

 

At 10:45 the following morning, or more accurately, later that same morning, I stumble down the seemingly never-ending burgundy walled hallways trying to locate the elusive 'back exit' of the hotel so that I can be on time to meet Harry. I just about managed to drag myself into the shower this morning after another interrupted nights sleep, seems Harry's voice can only cover up so much of Sammy's deep throaty snores, and find time to throw my clothes back into my ever-present suitcase, but I've not managed to even so much as have a cup of coffee yet though, so I can't say I am in much of a better mood than I was when I went to bed last night/this morning. I really need to get my internal body-clock on to some kind of touring schedule I think as I finally spot what I think is the correct door and make my way towards it, garnering some strange looks from a few members of staff as I tug my suitcase behind me on its rickety wheels. 

When I finally step outside I quickly scan the car park for Harry, seeing no sign of him. Despite the fact that its another dull and dreary day in Manchester with nothing but grey clouds as far as the eye can see, I push my sunglasses on in an attempt to try and hide the ever-expanding black circles growing under my eyes, I take a moment to throw my still slightly damp hair, up into a loose bun and perch myself carefully on the edge of my suitcase to wait for Mr Styles to appear, my battered old guitar case slung over my back. 

At 11 am on the dot, I am happily engrossed in a quick catch up with my mum over WhatsApp where she is sending me photos some friends of hers took at the party on Friday, wow, was that really less than a week ago? My whole life seems to have changed so dramatically since then that it feels like a lifetime. When the sound of a loud car engine revving disrupts the, up until then, peaceful morning and I look up from my phone just in time to see a sleek, shiny Maserati Gran Turismo pull into the empty car park and slide to a graceful stop right next to my perch by the exit. Shit, I guess as we're checking out, some other superstar is checking in today and I, of course, have sat myself right in the damn way of their stealthy entrance. 

I stand up a little too quickly and have to take a moment to steady myself as my head spins from the movement before I can turn and grab hold of my suitcase and try and manoeuvrer myself out of the way of whoever is about to step out of this insanely beautiful car, for a fleeting moment I consider hanging around and trying to introduce myself to whomever it is that has, not only enough money to purchase such an amazing vehicle but also the taste to go for one so stylish, but then I remember my messy bun, black circles and the ketchup stain that is hovering just above the crotch of the jeans I am wearing because I was too dumb to pack more than three pairs when I came away and these are the closest to 'clean' that I have left, and I think better of it. Skulking quietly off to one side to allow the driver some privacy, I try to disappear into a nearby alcove next to the bins. 

I bury my head back into my phone, wondering if I can subtly manage to take a picture of the car, I know my dad would get a real kick out of it, and am paying utterly no attention to the person exiting it, figuring it's probably best that I don't make eye contact. I dimly register the sound of a door being softly closed and the boot opening, but I am completely blindsided when the familiar voice calls over to me and makes me jump a little. 

“You gonna stand there all day Trouble?” 

“Harry??” I say, dumbfounded, totally forgetting my plan to call him nothing but Mr Styles in my confusion, damn I scold myself internally as he strides over towards my hiding place and gives me a friendly hug. “Th..that's your car?” I sputter

“Morning to you too, try not to look quite so shocked eh? I've already told you my ego can only take so much. No, she's not mine, yet. She's just on loan, but if I like her, who knows, maybe?” He says flashing me a megawatt smile as he reaches around to take the handle of my suitcase and carries it over to the car, placing it in the boot where it sticks out like a sore thumb against the beautiful leather interior and I almost want to tell him to take it back out before it hurts the poor car. 

“We're riding to Birmingham... in a Maserati?” I question him, still unable to quite comprehend the situation, definitely should have found time for that morning coffee, I seem to have left my brain back up in my hotel room. 

“Yep, that's the idea! If you ever manage to remove the super glue from your shoes that is” Harry says, smirking at me as he walks around to the passenger side of the car and holds open the door

“Super Glue?” I repeat stupidly

“Well, I'm guessing that's what's got you stuck to that spot you're standing in. Unless you just really like alcoves” He says gesturing to the small space I am still standing in

“Right, yes sorry, moving,” I say quietly and make my way towards him. “Harry... I don't know if this is such a good idea, you remember when we first met right? You've seen how clumsy I am...” I say shyly as he holds out a hand to help me into the car, it's passenger seat gleams back at me through the open doorway and that gorgeous new car smell floats into my nostrils making me inhale deeply without ever really deciding to do so.

“Don't worry, if you break anything, I'll just take it out of your wages” He says with a chuckle and I feel my face blanch. “Would you please just get in the car? I bought you a coffee...” He says imploringly, with a look that tells me that he's already figured out all my weaknesses and that I don't stand a chance against him. 

“Fine, but don't say I didn't warn you” I mumble as I hoist myself into what is without a doubt, the most comfortable seat I have ever had the pleasure of putting my arse on in my entire life, and that includes the lap of my first real boyfriend. The leather hugs around my thighs creating a snug little nook for me and as I reach back to grab my seatbelt, my head brushes against a perfectly cushioned headrest. Damn, I could get used to this I think to myself as Harry closes my door and makes his way around to the driver side. 

Once he is situated back in his seat, he takes a Styrofoam to-go cup from a holder between the front seats and hands it to me with a serious look on his face “Please do at least try not to spill it all over the seat.. please?” He says sincerely and I grip the cup tightly with both hands and give him a nod of agreement as he starts the ignition and the car roars to life.


	14. Another day, another interview. London, England

“Are you sure I look ok?” I ask Sammy for what is possibly the tenth time since I got back to the hotel an hour ago as I nervously glance at my reflection in the mirror above the vanity. My whole plan of getting a good nights sleep in my own bed entirely went to hell last night, so the bags under my eyes are back in full force, although I'm pretty sure I've managed to mostly disguise them with the half bottle of concealer I slapped on before I left home. I spent most of the time tossing and turning, fretting over the interview today. What if I make a complete twat out of myself? What if I've picked the wrong song to sing? The wrong outfit to wear? What if I walk through the office door, fall flat on my face and break some priceless award from some ceremony I've never even heard of? 

When I finally gave up and got up at around 7 am, I figured I might as well make the most of my morning and bring my freshly packed suitcase back to the hotel. Everyone's heading out tonight after takedown, so I won't be going back to my flat again before we leave London tomorrow to fly up to Glasgow for the show on Saturday night, and I don't have any idea how long this interview will last or if I'll have time to come back here before I head to the venue. It also seemed fairly unprofessional to turn up with my bright pink suitcase in tow, might not quite give the impression I am going for. 

As tonight's show is in the exact same arena as last nights, we don't actually have a lot of work to do today before the show starts, but Paul has decreed that we all still need to be in the venue by at least 3, and the interview isn't till 1 pm on the other side of town. I really hope I can make it back... I don't fancy having to explain to Paul, or worse still, Jeff, why I'm late. 

“Yes I'm sure, Jesus woman anyone would think you were going on a hot date with the man of your dreams, not a bloody job interview” Sammy teases me

“Urgh, you don't understand,” I say flopping down on the bed next to her and carefully laying my head back against the wall so as to not flatten my hair. “Screw men. This 'job' as you call it, IS my dream. I've been working towards an opportunity like this since I was six years old! Shit, it's the main reason I came out on tour in the first place, in the hope of landing myself an audition like this, but I guess... I just didn't expect it to happen so fast.” 

“Maddie listen to me. Harry set you up to sing at that bar the other night after hearing you belt out a couple of lines because he KNEW you had talent and wanted to hear more of it, THEN that boy had me forward him the video I took, which by the way, means you aren't the only member of the crew with his number now” She says wiggling her eyebrows. “And as if that wasn't already enough, he then sent it on to his contact at this label and arranged a meeting for you in a matter of days. If THAT doesn't convince you that you clearly have talent.. then I don't know what fucking will” She finishes matter of factly. 

“I'm sorry, I'm just nervous! Imagine how you'd feel if you were suddenly sent off to interview for a job as a beautician for some fancy band” I say pointedly and watch the colour drain out of Sammy's usually peachy coloured face “Exactly!” I state triumphantly pointing an accusing finger towards her.

“Yeah yeah ok, I get it. I'd be puking my guts up in that bathroom right now if I were you. But like you said, you've been preparing for this your whole life, so you walk your arse in there with your head held high and show them what you're made of! Time to stop dreaming and starting living” 

I have a scary hour alone in the hotel room after that, as Sammy has a 'not brunch date' with Freddie, seems she's still in denial about that one. I tried in vain to nibble at a sandwich that I picked up in M&S on the way here, but my stomach is doing somersaults and I can't manage more than a few bites before I abandon it. The silence seems deafening in the small, beige covered room, and my thoughts wander incessantly. I pick up my guitar and practice the song I've chosen to sing this afternoon, which I'm fairly certain I could play in my sleep at this point I've already practised it so much, before I abandon that too and lay down on my bed, staring at the, also beige, ceiling.

I know Sammy's right and that I need to be more confident, I'm sure as hell not going to get anywhere in this business if I wander around like a shy little mouse who's terrified of everyone. But this could be my big break, and I'm fucking nervous as hell. Just as I am about to go wandering the halls to try and locate Clark, or even Harry maybe to distract me, the alarm on my phone begins to sound. Time to go. 

After a fairly uneventful tube journey, I hop off the tube at Piccadilly circus and make my way through the tightly packed streets of Soho, dodging tourists taking photos and people rushing to get back to the office after lunch. As I turn down Lower John Street, the maps app on my phone that has been directing me suddenly squawks loudly into my ear “Your destination is on the right” making me jump a little in surprise and abruptly come to a stop in the middle of the road, which in turn, causes a well-suited man with a briefcase in one hand and his smartphone in the other, to walk straight into my back and send me stumbling forward. Shit. 

“Watch it lady” He calls as he continues down the road, barely breaking his stride as he shoots me a dirty look over his broad shoulder. 

“Sorry!” I call back after his retreating form, silently wishing I had the balls to point out that if he were paying more attention to where he was going and less to his phone.. he might not have smashed into me at all. 

Regaining my composure, I take a couple of deep breaths, square my shoulders and with my guitar case handles grasped tightly in my hand I make my way inside the large glass fronted building whose name matches the one on the text Harry sent me yesterday and silently pray that this isn't another prank. 

“Hi, I'm erm, Maddie, Matilda Graham, I have an appointment with Mr Novak?” I say to the woman behind the desk, which naturally is also completely made of glass, do these people not know other materials exist? She looks up at me over the rims of her stylish black glasses and without bothering to speak, she holds up a long finger with a perfectly manicured bright red nail, filed into a sharp point at me, indicating I should wait, whilst she clicks away on her mouse with her other hand. 

“Mr Novak is running late this afternoon, please take a seat and he'll be with you shortly,” She says in a bored voice as if this is a phrase she has to repeat several times a day. 

I glance around the small, brightly lit reception area looking for a place to sit, there are two uptight looking businessmen in suits sitting on a leather sofa on one side of the room, opposite a long, empty, shelf-like cushioned window seat up against the sparklingly clean glass that looks out over the bustling streets of Soho. I make my way over to the shelf and settle myself down carefully, right on the edge, ensuring that I don't accidentally lean up against the window and leave a mark.

Embarrassingly, and of course right on cue because that's just how my life works, its at that moment that my phone goes off and my text tone, which happens to be the noise of a Minion laughing, echoes loudly through the glass space, seeming to bounce off of every single pane before I can finally silence it, I notice the receptionist throw me an unimpressed glance before she returns her attention to her screen, and the pair of men sitting across the room pause there conversation to tut at me, I throw them an apologetic look. At least it happened out here and not in the meeting, I think to myself as I frown down at the screen. 

“Just wanted to wish you luck! Hope you found the place ok. I'm sure you'll be great, just try and keep the swearing to a minimum ;) Come find me before the show and let me know how you get on. H x” 

I discreetly tap out a quick response and silence my phone. 

“I'll do my best. Thanks again for this, I can't believe I'm here x” 

“Miss Graham? Mr Novak will see you now” announces an incredibly tall blonde, wearing a form-fitting knee-length royal blue dress, who seems to have appeared out of thin air but is now standing a few metres to my left waiting for me to follow her. I stand and subconsciously run a hand through my hair before picking up my case. God, I hope I don't embarrass myself. 

I follow the blonde through what I would have assumed was just another window pane but turned out to be a door, which explains her ability to appear seemingly out of thin air, and down a long corridor which is lined on both sides with yet more glass-enclosed offices, until she finally comes to a stop outside the first room I have seen which actually has a wall, and I sigh with relief. At least, however, I manage to make a twat out of myself in here isn't going to be visible to everyone else in the office, I think to myself as she holds the door open for me and gestures me inside, offering me a small smile as she closes it firmly behind her. 

Inside the large room is a huge mahogany desk which seems to take up most of the space, and two large matching bookshelves, the rest of the wall space is absolutely covered in various platinum and gold records, yeah that's not intimidating at all. Behind the large desk a slightly overweight man with brown hair which is greying at the routes and dark brown eyes forces himself out of his seat and wanders around to greet me, hand outstretched in preparation. 

“Miss Graham, it's lovely to meet you. I must say it's not every day we have someone recommended to us by Harry Styles. Please take a seat” He says almost all in one breath. 

“Thank you, Mr Novak. It was very kind of Harry to contact you, and equally  
kind of you to agree to see me, especially on such short notice” I say formally, trying to keep my nerves out of my voice. 

“Of course of course” Mr Novak mutters as he retakes his seat and presses a button on a nearby phone “Silvia? Can you get me a Latte sweetheart?” He asks before raising his eyebrows to me questioningly, “Anything for you Miss Graham?” 

“Water would be lovely please” I reply quietly, not wanting the receptionist to think I am trying to give her orders. 

“And a water for Miss Graham. Oh and Silvia? If you've got a minute, run next door to the bakery would you and see if they've got any of those muffins I like?” 

I hear a voice on the other end of the intercom confirm that she'll do just that before Mr Novak leans forward on his desk and looks at me. And when I say looks at me... I mean he pointedly directs his glance to the tips of my boots, then allows his eyes to slowly drift up my body, inch by inch, drinking me in, a slight shudder trickles down my spine and I struggle to conceal it under his thorough inspection. Once his eyes finally meet mine he begins to speak again. 

“Well it wasn't actually myself that Mr Styles contacted, but a colleague of mine, however, she is out of the country currently and he indicated that you would only be available today. I understand you're touring with Mr Styles, is that correct? I must admit I had heard someone else was opening for him..” He trailed off

“Erm, well yes, I am touring with him, but, I'm just part of the crew. Mabel is his opening act” 

“I see, so you have no real professional experience at all then?” He says with a slight sneer and I watch in fascination as his whole demeanour seems to change. I guess he was expecting me to be someone a little further up on the food chain. He leans back in his chair and turns his attention to his computer screen, lazily clicking at the mouse. Not the start I was hoping for.


	15. Somewhere on the M40, England

I've been driving my car for a good 40 minutes before I finally manage to get my palms to stop sweating and my heart to stop feeling like it's about to explode out of my chest. If you'd have asked me this morning, when Harry pulled up in his flashy rental car, how today was going to pan out, I'd have gone through a thousand guesses – most of which would have included me making a twat out of myself in some way or another - before I landed on the bombshell that Harry so kindly dropped on me as we stood next to my battered old Micra in the hotel car park in Birmingham where I'd abandoned it just a couple of days ago. 

The journey itself went rather well I thought. I managed not to spill a single drop of my coffee on to the plush leather seating, or myself or on Harry for that matter. We discovered a mutual love for Kings of Leon and 70's rock as we cruised down the motorway at 70+ miles an hour in the car that made you feel like you were barely moving at all, singing our hearts out. We laughed, we joked, we got to know one and other. And I think I can officially now say that Harry Styles is not only my boss, but he's also my friend. 

As much as that thought gives me a delightfully fuzzy feeling in the pit of my tummy that I can't quite explain, nor do I want to investigate too closely right now to be honest, never in a million years would I have expected him to have gone so above and beyond so early in our friendship. But I guess that is the difference between normal people and Rock Stars, something so monumentous to me, is nothing more than a phone call to him. 

“So, erm, do you have any plans on Thursday?” Harry asked me apropos of nothing as he hefted my suitcase out of the boot of the beautiful Maserati and pushed it into the rather sad looking boot of my Micra. I said a silent apology to my guitar as I placed it on the back seat, back to reality I'm afraid. No more riding in style for us today. Style haha... Forcing myself to focus I straightened up to respond to Harry, narrowly missing bashing my head on the door frame in the process. 

“Well I'm planning to stay at my flat whilst we're down South, actually sneak in a good nights sleep or two ya know? So I guess I'll probably pop over to my parents maybe, or catch up with my brother. Why do you ask?” I queried. 

“Ok look... don't be upset ok? But I might have kinda.. sorta.. set up a meeting for you in London” He said the last part in a rush, more quickly than I've ever heard him speak and stopped walking a few feet away from me, choosing to lean back against the car instead, his tattoed arms folded across his chest, muscles bulging. My car of course, not his posh rental, god forbid he leave an arse print on that! 

“Er, ok... what kind of meeting? Please don't tell me that my position as the crew dogs body is being extended to running random errands for you outside of the venues. I'll be needing a raise if that's the case.” I teased him

“No, actually this is something for you. I might have sent the video of you singing the other night, the one that Sammy took? On to an associate of mine, and, well, he wants to meet with you.” He said, his eyes focused firmly on the floor, refusing to look at me. 

“WHAT! Fuck, Harry, that's....” and that was as far as I got. All the hundreds of thousands of words I had learnt since I first started speaking at 10 months old dropped out of my head and I stood there like an idiot with my mouth hanging open, staring at Harry as though he'd just grown another head. 

“Ok, I'm just going to close this for you..” He said with a slight smirk, reaching out and pushing my jaw closed with the tip of his index finger. “The meetings at 1 pm in Soho, I'll text you all the details you need, just, maybe try and remember how to speak before then, deal?” 

I nodded mutely, completely unable to form a sentence or even a coherent thought. Shit! 

“Are you going to be ok to drive?” Harry asked me, and the concerned look in his eyes finally snapped me back into something slightly resembling a human being and I managed to respond, with actual words and everything, go me. 

“Yes... Harry, this is, you didn't have to do... What I mean is...” I trailed off again. 

“Maddie?” 

“Um hmm” 

“Just say thank you” 

“Thank you. You called me Maddie.” I observed like an idiot

“You called me Harry first, don't get used to it Trouble.” He replied. 

As he pulled away from our now familiar goodbye hug routine, I felt his soft, warm lips press against my forehead, lingering there for just a moment. A quiet sigh I couldn't quite control slipped from my lips in protest when he pulled away and he flashed me one of his trademark superstar smiles, the ones, I am convinced, he only pulls out when there are cameras around or he's truly truly happy about something. I felt myself grinning stupidly back at him as he turned and made his way back into his car. 

“Drive safe Trouble” He called as he closed the door, and drove off, out of the car park, leaving me standing there in the near-empty car park like a complete prat, still wondering what on earth had just happened. 

It took me a good five or ten minutes to actually move and get into my own car, and for the first time in years, I wished I still smoked, just so I'd have something to do with my shaking hands. It wasn't until a guy in pristine looking chef whites came out of the back door of the hotel holding a large black bin bag and gave me a questioning look, that I finally snapped back to reality and decided it was time to get back on the road. 

So now, here I am, zooming down the M40 in a complete daze, trying to figure out the answers to the hundred questions fluttering around my brain. 

Firstly, what the fuck am I supposed to wear? Secondly, is this just a meeting? Or more of an Audition? Should I take my guitar with me? And if they ask me to sing, what should I play? And Thirdly, and possibly most mind-bogglingly, why has Harry set this up for me? Surely given the position he's in, he must get badgered to set up meetings or send of demo's or work with wannabe singers every other day, so what would make him decide to help me? When I hadn't even asked him to? When I'm really nothing special? 

These thoughts, amongst others, plagued me all the way down to London, and by the time I reach my small studio flat just on the outskirts of town, I am absolutely exhausted, and to be honest, I am starting to wonder if I dreamt the entire conversation, I have barely been sleeping after all, maybe I'm just overtired and imagining things? Or it was part of a half-remembered dream I had? But a quick check of my phone proves that it was, in fact, real. 

As promised the message icon is bleeping away and when I open it I see the name and address of a man in Soho who I am to meet on Thursday afternoon at 1 pm. Wow. Without thinking I hit the reply button and send him a message 

“Why me? X” 

“Because you deserve it. Your voice is amazing Maddie. I've never heard anyone sing like you before. Even in the car today prating about you sounded like a cross between Stevie Nicks and Whitney Houston. It would have been more stupid of me NOT to send on that video H xx” 

I read the text four times through before his words finally started to sink in. Although I'm fairly sure he's exaggerating, comparing me to two of the most famous female singers that have ever lived, the compliment and his faith in me still make me smile. 

“Thank you. I'll try not to let you down x” 

“Trouble, the only way you could let me down would be if you turned up late, or not at all. Trust me. You'll do great. H xx”

 

I spend a bloody wonderful nearly 16 odd hours at home in my flat enjoying the peace and quiet and I even manage to pack up enough clothes to last me for the upcoming trip to Scotland and Ireland, which is all I really need right now as I'll be back here for a day or two before we head off to Australia next week. And! I only had two, ok.. maybe three... major meltdowns over the meeting.

After pulling pretty much every item of clothing out of my wardrobe and trying on at least ten different outfits, I finally settle on wearing my stylishly ripped black jeans, knee high lace up boots and a white off the shoulder top, deciding it portrays the kind of image I want to put across, and I smooth the items out and position them carefully across the back of my sofa, reminding myself not to go near that area of the flat with any food or drink before for the next day or so.

By the time I have to leave to head to the O2 in Greenwich on Wednesday afternoon, I think I have finally come up with the perfect way to get Harry back for his little stunt at the bar at the weekend. Sure he's done a nice thing in arranging this meeting for me and all, but I haven't forgotten how he set me up that night, and nor am I going to let him get away with it either, especially when I still don't know what the consequences of me singing in front of Jeff were, although I've not been fired yet, so that's got to be a good sign right?

I walk into the venue and try to hide my smile as I seek out Sammy and start setting up for the night. 

“Did you hear H has sorted us all tickets for tonight?” Sammy asks me as we're putting the last section of the barrier together in front of the stage. 

“No, I didn't! That's great, I've been hoping to catch another show” I reply

“Yeah apparently as its a 'homecoming' gig of sorts, he decided he wanted us all to be in the audience. Kinda cool huh? I've not seen a show since opening night in Switzerland” she tells me 

“At least this time I'll have more of a clue what's going on and won't be blindsided by his fans and their shockingly impressive lingo. What even is a Larrie anyways?” I ask her, but we are interrupted by Harry and the band starting up their soundcheck and conversation becomes nearly impossible over the sounds of the various  
instruments and Harry's husky voice. 

As usual, after Mabel's set, myself and several other crew members rush around quickly dismantling her stage set up so that it can be replaced with Harry's, everyone's rushing here there and everywhere trying to get everything done without falling over each other, before Harry's carefully chosen playlist finishes, I'm just tidying away a stray cable when I spot my target, a tall lady in her 30's across the other side of the stage called Amy who I've seen bringing out the countless amounts of water bottles that they have scattered around during the set, and make my way over to her. 

“Hey Amy, you look rushed off your feet! Why don't I get the water bottles for you? Save you a job?” I ask her sweetly with a smile as she bends to mop up a small puddle of water on the stage. She looks up at me quizzically for a moment before answering, her big brown eyes seeming to bore deep down into my soul trying to work out if I have an ulterior motive, so I am careful to keep my face as blank as possible. 

“Erm, sure, it's Maddie, right? That'd be a big help actually, thanks” She says in a harassed kind of tone “The bottles are in the fridge in the kitchen, ask Sarah to show you if you get lost” she adds quickly before turning her attention back to the puddle. 

“Will do!” I say cheerfully and make my way backstage. On my way to the kitchen, I make a quick stop off at my backpack which I left on top of what seems to be an old dis-guarded speaker backstage and fish out my crew issue 'Treat People with Kindness' water bottle, giving it a little shake. Let's see how you like it when the jokes on you, eh Styles? I mutter to myself and head off to collect the other water bottles from the kitchen. 

An hour or so later and I am perched on the edge of my seat, well... figuratively at least as I've not actually sat down since the start of the show, but you get the idea. We're seated in the stands just off to Harry's left, where two long rows have been reserved for the various members of the crew, even Jeff has come to join us and everyone seems to be having a great time. The shows been great up until now, but I'm distracted, every time Harry goes to take a sip of water, I wait on tenterhooks to see if he'll pick up my booby-trapped bottle, but, much to my dismay, he sticks to the annoyingly sealed plastic ones that I couldn't tamper with for the first half of his set. 

It's not until he has just finished playing “Anna” Which has quickly become one of my favourites as its such a fun happy song, that he reaches out and his fingers wrap around the correct bottle. I watch intently as he puts it to his lips, taking a large gulp before pulling back and sniffing its contents and pulling a face, and I start to laugh. In fact, I laugh so fucking hard that I am seriously scared I might break a rib. Clutching myself around the middle, I pitifully attempt to keep myself in one piece as Harry looks over towards us and sticks out an arm, his index finger extended, pointing straight at me. 

Shit. He's not smiling.. have I gone too far? I may not have been here long but I know how professional he is, he never touches a drop of alcohol until after his shows, even though I've seen all his band have a glass of wine or a beer beforehand, god Mitch has a bottle of wine next to him on stage most nights which he sips away at happily as he plays, still never missing a note, I really must see if I can convince him to give me a lesson or two on the guitar... 

After a few seconds of pointing and scowling at me, Harry's face finally cracks into a small smirk, followed by a slow nod of acceptance. He know's he deserved it. 

Not one to miss out on a moments gossip, Sammy tugs hard on the sleeve of my T-shirt to get my attention. 

“What was THAT all about?” She asks loudly, eyebrows raised.

“Ha! Nothing! It was just time for a little payback after his stunt on Sunday night that's all” I say as I finally manage to calm my giggles. 

“What did you do!” Sammy shouts over the next track as the rest of the crew around us obliviously sings along. Clearly, my excitement is infectious as she's got a huge grin on her face and she's bouncing slightly on the balls of her feet.

“I might have switched out his water bottle with mine. That's all” I say with a wink “And mine might have had a something just a little bit stronger than water in it!” I admit, which causes me to start laughing again. 

“Oh my god you didn't!! That's amazing! No one ever pranks H! Damn you're either seriously brave or incredibly stupid!” she laughs

“Ahh, probably a mixture of both to be honest. Besides, it was only a bit of Vodka and he knows he earned it.” I say and as Harry's eyes catch mine again, I raise my wine glass to him, thinking, that's one point to me Styles. Your turn. He throws me a quick smirk and turning back to the audience, immerses himself in putting on an excellent show. As always, he's funny and charming, making jokes and interacting with the fans, and it dawns on me all of the sudden that, if this meeting tomorrow goes well, that could be me in a couple of years time. The thought makes me shudder with a mixture of anticipation and delight and I throw back the rest of my wine before I have to head backstage during The Chain to prepare for take-down, I need to get out of here as early as possible tonight so I can get home and get my beauty sleep before I head to Soho.


	16. Another day, another interview. London, England

“Are you sure I look ok?” I ask Sammy for what is possibly the tenth time since I got back to the hotel an hour ago as I nervously glance at my reflection in the mirror above the vanity. My whole plan of getting a good nights sleep in my own bed entirely went to hell last night, so the bags under my eyes are back in full force, although I'm pretty sure I've managed to mostly disguise them with the half bottle of concealer I slapped on before I left home. I spent most of the time tossing and turning, fretting over the interview today. What if I make a complete twat out of myself? What if I've picked the wrong song to sing? The wrong outfit to wear? What if I walk through the office door, fall flat on my face and break some priceless award from some ceremony I've never even heard of? 

When I finally gave up and got up at around 7 am, I figured I might as well make the most of my morning and bring my freshly packed suitcase back to the hotel. Everyone's heading out tonight after takedown, so I won't be going back to my flat again before we leave London tomorrow to fly up to Glasgow for the show on Saturday night, and I don't have any idea how long this interview will last or if I'll have time to come back here before I head to the venue. It also seemed fairly unprofessional to turn up with my bright pink suitcase in tow, might not quite give the impression I am going for. 

As tonight's show is in the exact same arena as last nights, we don't actually have a lot of work to do today before the show starts, but Paul has decreed that we all still need to be in the venue by at least 3, and the interview isn't till 1 pm on the other side of town. I really hope I can make it back... I don't fancy having to explain to Paul, or worse still, Jeff, why I'm late. 

“Yes I'm sure, Jesus woman anyone would think you were going on a hot date with the man of your dreams, not a bloody job interview” Sammy teases me

“Urgh, you don't understand,” I say flopping down on the bed next to her and carefully laying my head back against the wall so as to not flatten my hair. “Screw men. This 'job' as you call it, IS my dream. I've been working towards an opportunity like this since I was six years old! Shit, it's the main reason I came out on tour in the first place, in the hope of landing myself an audition like this, but I guess... I just didn't expect it to happen so fast.” 

“Maddie listen to me. Harry set you up to sing at that bar the other night after hearing you belt out a couple of lines because he KNEW you had talent and wanted to hear more of it, THEN that boy had me forward him the video I took, which by the way, means you aren't the only member of the crew with his number now” She says wiggling her eyebrows. “And as if that wasn't already enough, he then sent it on to his contact at this label and arranged a meeting for you in a matter of days. If THAT doesn't convince you that you clearly have talent.. then I don't know what fucking will” She finishes matter of factly. 

“I'm sorry, I'm just nervous! Imagine how you'd feel if you were suddenly sent off to interview for a job as a beautician for some fancy band” I say pointedly and watch the colour drain out of Sammy's usually peachy coloured face “Exactly!” I state triumphantly pointing an accusing finger towards her.

“Yeah yeah ok, I get it. I'd be puking my guts up in that bathroom right now if I were you. But like you said, you've been preparing for this your whole life, so you walk your arse in there with your head held high and show them what you're made of! Time to stop dreaming and starting living” 

I have a scary hour alone in the hotel room after that, as Sammy has a 'not brunch date' with Freddie, seems she's still in denial about that one. I tried in vain to nibble at a sandwich that I picked up in M&S on the way here, but my stomach is doing somersaults and I can't manage more than a few bites before I abandon it. The silence seems deafening in the small, beige covered room, and my thoughts wander incessantly. I pick up my guitar and practice the song I've chosen to sing this afternoon, which I'm fairly certain I could play in my sleep at this point I've already practised it so much, before I abandon that too and lay down on my bed, staring at the, also beige, ceiling.

I know Sammy's right and that I need to be more confident, I'm sure as hell not going to get anywhere in this business if I wander around like a shy little mouse who's terrified of everyone. But this could be my big break, and I'm fucking nervous as hell. Just as I am about to go wandering the halls to try and locate Clark, or even Harry maybe to distract me, the alarm on my phone begins to sound. Time to go. 

After a fairly uneventful tube journey, I hop off the tube at Piccadilly circus and make my way through the tightly packed streets of Soho, dodging tourists taking photos and people rushing to get back to the office after lunch. As I turn down Lower John Street, the maps app on my phone that has been directing me suddenly squawks loudly into my ear “Your destination is on the right” making me jump a little in surprise and abruptly come to a stop in the middle of the road, which in turn, causes a well-suited man with a briefcase in one hand and his smartphone in the other, to walk straight into my back and send me stumbling forward. Shit. 

“Watch it lady” He calls as he continues down the road, barely breaking his stride as he shoots me a dirty look over his broad shoulder. 

“Sorry!” I call back after his retreating form, silently wishing I had the balls to point out that if he were paying more attention to where he was going and less to his phone.. he might not have smashed into me at all. 

Regaining my composure, I take a couple of deep breaths, square my shoulders and with my guitar case handles grasped tightly in my hand I make my way inside the large glass fronted building whose name matches the one on the text Harry sent me yesterday and silently pray that this isn't another prank. 

“Hi, I'm erm, Maddie, Matilda Graham, I have an appointment with Mr Novak?” I say to the woman behind the desk, which naturally is also completely made of glass, do these people not know other materials exist? She looks up at me over the rims of her stylish black glasses and without bothering to speak, she holds up a long finger with a perfectly manicured bright red nail, filed into a sharp point at me, indicating I should wait, whilst she clicks away on her mouse with her other hand. 

“Mr Novak is running late this afternoon, please take a seat and he'll be with you shortly,” She says in a bored voice as if this is a phrase she has to repeat several times a day. 

I glance around the small, brightly lit reception area looking for a place to sit, there are two uptight looking businessmen in suits sitting on a leather sofa on one side of the room, opposite a long, empty, shelf-like cushioned window seat up against the sparklingly clean glass that looks out over the bustling streets of Soho. I make my way over to the shelf and settle myself down carefully, right on the edge, ensuring that I don't accidentally lean up against the window and leave a mark.

Embarrassingly, and of course right on cue because that's just how my life works, its at that moment that my phone goes off and my text tone, which happens to be the noise of a Minion laughing, echoes loudly through the glass space, seeming to bounce off of every single pane before I can finally silence it, I notice the receptionist throw me an unimpressed glance before she returns her attention to her screen, and the pair of men sitting across the room pause there conversation to tut at me, I throw them an apologetic look. At least it happened out here and not in the meeting, I think to myself as I frown down at the screen. 

“Just wanted to wish you luck! Hope you found the place ok. I'm sure you'll be great, just try and keep the swearing to a minimum ;) Come find me before the show and let me know how you get on. H x” 

I discreetly tap out a quick response and silence my phone. 

“I'll do my best. Thanks again for this, I can't believe I'm here x” 

“Miss Graham? Mr Novak will see you now” announces an incredibly tall blonde, wearing a form-fitting knee-length royal blue dress, who seems to have appeared out of thin air but is now standing a few metres to my left waiting for me to follow her. I stand and subconsciously run a hand through my hair before picking up my case. God, I hope I don't embarrass myself. 

I follow the blonde through what I would have assumed was just another window pane but turned out to be a door, which explains her ability to appear seemingly out of thin air, and down a long corridor which is lined on both sides with yet more glass-enclosed offices, until she finally comes to a stop outside the first room I have seen which actually has a wall, and I sigh with relief. At least, however, I manage to make a twat out of myself in here isn't going to be visible to everyone else in the office, I think to myself as she holds the door open for me and gestures me inside, offering me a small smile as she closes it firmly behind her. 

Inside the large room is a huge mahogany desk which seems to take up most of the space, and two large matching bookshelves, the rest of the wall space is absolutely covered in various platinum and gold records, yeah that's not intimidating at all. Behind the large desk a slightly overweight man with brown hair which is greying at the routes and dark brown eyes forces himself out of his seat and wanders around to greet me, hand outstretched in preparation. 

“Miss Graham, it's lovely to meet you. I must say it's not every day we have someone recommended to us by Harry Styles. Please take a seat” He says almost all in one breath. 

“Thank you, Mr Novak. It was very kind of Harry to contact you, and equally  
kind of you to agree to see me, especially on such short notice” I say formally, trying to keep my nerves out of my voice. 

“Of course of course” Mr Novak mutters as he retakes his seat and presses a button on a nearby phone “Silvia? Can you get me a Latte sweetheart?” He asks before raising his eyebrows to me questioningly, “Anything for you Miss Graham?” 

“Water would be lovely please” I reply quietly, not wanting the receptionist to think I am trying to give her orders. 

“And a water for Miss Graham. Oh and Silvia? If you've got a minute, run next door to the bakery would you and see if they've got any of those muffins I like?” 

I hear a voice on the other end of the intercom confirm that she'll do just that before Mr Novak leans forward on his desk and looks at me. And when I say looks at me... I mean he pointedly directs his glance to the tips of my boots, then allows his eyes to slowly drift up my body, inch by inch, drinking me in, a slight shudder trickles down my spine and I struggle to conceal it under his thorough inspection. Once his eyes finally meet mine he begins to speak again. 

“Well it wasn't actually myself that Mr Styles contacted, but a colleague of mine, however, she is out of the country currently and he indicated that you would only be available today. I understand you're touring with Mr Styles, is that correct? I must admit I had heard someone else was opening for him..” He trailed off

“Erm, well yes, I am touring with him, but, I'm just part of the crew. Mabel is his opening act” 

“I see, so you have no real professional experience at all then?” He says with a slight sneer and I watch in fascination as his whole demeanour seems to change. I guess he was expecting me to be someone a little further up on the food chain. He leans back in his chair and turns his attention to his computer screen, lazily clicking at the mouse. Not the start I was hoping for.


	17. Soho, London, England

Well, this isn't exactly going to plan now, is it? I think to myself as Mr Novak clicks away on his mouse. I'm torn between wanting to regain his attention.. and wanting to just give up and head to the venue. 

“Actually Mr Novak, I have been playing professionally for several years, just, not quite on that scale. I mostly play the holiday camp circuit, pubs and clubs. But I also write my own music, I bought my guitar so I can play you something if you'd like?” I say slightly defensively, patting the guitar bag propped up next to my chair. 

I try to smile, but I'm pretty sure it ends up as more of a grimace. This guy is starting to piss me off. I really don't like the fact that the moment he realised I was a nobody, he lost all interest in me or the way he looked at me like I'm a piece of meat.

“I see, I see,” He says, still barely paying any attention to me at all. A few moments of silence go by and I am about to speak again when he finally drags his eyes away from his computer and sits forward again, giving me his full attention and leaning his elbows on his too large desk. Overcompensating much? 

“Look Miss... “ 

“Graham” I remind him, even though he was perfectly able to remember my name just a minute or two ago.

“Right, Miss Graham. You see, this office here receives about 200 emails a day from wannabe pop stars. Not to mention the phone calls and demo CD's that keep most of the staff busy until nightfall, and that's just this office before we take into consideration our LA and Nashville colleagues. So you must understand that, just because you were recommended by someone in the industry, doesn't mean we're just going to offer you a deal right off the bat” 

“Oh of course not, I never thought that..” I begin, but he holds up a hand, cutting me off mid-sentence. 

“Don't get me wrong, I'm sure you can sing, and you certainly aren't bad to look at.. in fact, you're one of the more attractive women I've had in my office so far this year, but, just because you managed to somehow, shall we say, 'convince' Mr Styles to contact us on your behalf, doesn't mean you should expect special treatment” he says complete with a sleazy wink, and it takes all my willpower not to just get up and walk out. What the fuck is he implying? That I lured Harry into bed and then begged him to send that video to one of his contacts? Or worse, that it was some kind of exchange?

My fight or flight instinct is kicking in and every bone in my body is screaming at me to just leave, but as Harry set up this meeting, the least I can do is stick it out until this guy dismisses me, which, judging by the look on his face, won't take much longer. 

“I didn't ask Har... Mr Styles to contact you, he took a video of me singing in a BAR” I add emphatically, wanting to ensure this guy understands there was no funny business involved, “and sent it along to your colleague without my knowledge. I don't expect any special treatment” I say as calmly as I can manage, I try and keep eye contact but these guys stare is even more intimidating than Harry's and by the end of my sentence, my eyes have shifted to focus on a dark red knot in the surface of the shiny wooden desk. 

“Sure you didn't. Ok, Ok, well I guess you're here now, we might as well hear what you've got” He says, nodding towards my guitar case. 

I stand and have to bend over slightly to remove my guitar from its case and I can actually feel his beady eyes zeroing in on my arse. I have to suppress yet another shudder as I hear something that sounds like a hum of approval escape his lips, but at that moment, a light knock at the door interrupts us. Thank god for that. 

“Your coffee Mr Novak. And your muffin” the tall blonde from earlier states and she pushes open the door and places a small tray in front of us, she leaves the room without waiting to be thanked or even really acknowledged which just adds to the image I have in my mind of what kind of a man Mr Novak really is. I reach out and gratefully sip at the water she bought for me before replacing it on the table and picking up my guitar, strumming it lightly to check it's in tune before, at Mr Novak's nod, I take a deep breath and begin to sing. 

Throughout the first verse, Mr Novak focuses his gaze firmly about ten inches below my eyes, and I falter a couple of times as I watch him staring at my chest as it rises and falls with my breathing, his pupils dilating right in front of me, fuck does this man have no shame? I feel a sheen of sweat breaking out across my forehead but there's nothing I can do about it whilst I'm playing so I do my best to just ignore it. I've barely reached the end of the first chorus of one of my self-penned songs, a soft ballad when he raises a hand out to signal for me to stop. 

“That was.. nice” He begins, tapping his fingertips together in an almost menacing fashion before standing and walking around to the front of his desk. “But I see a lot of nice Miss Graham. Let me ask you, what is it that you think you can offer me, that the other women I've seen in this office cannot?” He asks, he rests his bulbous arse on the edge of the desk and leans towards me, his hands splayed across his upper legs for balance. Our faces are only inches apart and I can smell his aftershave as I reply, forcing myself to meet his gaze and not look away this time despite his close proximity. 

“I'm a hard worker, and I'm eager and willing to learn and improve, I have a large collection of songs that I've already written, I bought a USB stick with me..” I say, shuffling to pull my bag on to my lap to locate the stick for him. As I am searching through trying to find the damn thing, which I was sure I left in the front zipped compartment for exactly this moment, I suddenly feel something graze my leg, looking down I expecting it to be some kind of bug, I am startled to see Mr Novak's pudgy fingertips stroking along the length of my thigh.

I sit stock still for a moment, frozen and unsure how to react, time seems to slow as I raise my gaze back to his, my guitar still in my hands, our eyes meet and I open my mouth in preparation to tell him to get the fuck off of me, but, as if he can read my mind, his mild stroking stops and I feel his fingers dig deep into my flesh as his grip tightens around my thigh, in seconds his other hand stretches across the small space between us and clamps down on my opposite leg, effectively pinning me to the chair. 

“Now Matilda. Why don't you try and relax hmm? I'm sure you and I can come to an agreement here. I'll put your name forward to my bosses for consideration, and in return.. you can do something for me” He says in a whisper, his hot breath in my face as he inches ever closer to me and I can almost taste his coffee in the air between us. 

My guitar vibrates in my shaky hands, betraying my uneasiness with the situation as the wood slips slightly in my sweaty palms and I almost lose my grip on my most prized possession.

“Why don't we put this over here?” Mr Novak says, finally loosening his hands from my legs and prising the guitar from me. The moment he moves, I spring to my feet and make my way around the chair, desperate to put some distance between us. I grasp the back of the high backed leather seat whilst my brain works furiously, trying to decide on my next move. I need to get out of here. I watch in confusion as he gently places my guitar back into its case and closes the zip, watching his every movement as my brain works furiously trying to remember the one and only self-defence class I took god knows how many years ago. 

“I'm sorry if I've given you the wrong impression Mr Novak. But I just came here to sing.” I say as sternly as I can manage, but the tremor in my voice is clearly audible even to me as the sleaze bag starts to make his way around the chair I am cowering behind. I find myself shuffling slightly further away from him, but to my surprise, he doesn't try and approach me at all, but walks straight past me, head held high, and turns the lock on the office door. Fuck. 

“Yeah yeah, and I'm sure that one of the biggest stars in the world gave you a sought-after job on his tour with no experience out of the goodness of his heart too eh? Why don't we stop playing games, Matilda. You tell me what you want, and I'll tell you what my price is” He says in a low, deep voice as he steps towards me purposefully. 

Without ever really making the choice to do it, I find myself mirroring his movements, each time his foot steps forward, I step back... in some kind of a perverse dance. And before I know it, I feel the hard office wall coming into contact with my back. Glancing around quickly, I see that he has me cornered and I start to panic in earnest now. What the fuck is this creep playing at? 

I could scream.. surely the tall blonde from earlier would hear me? Her desk can't be far away... But with the door locked... how long would it take for her to get in? Would he just find a way to silence me then reassure her everything is ok? No, screaming is not going to cut it. Most of these walls are probably soundproofed anyway as people are often singing or playing instruments in here. 

He's still coming towards me, more slowly now.. he reaches up one of his pudgy hands and loosens the tie around his neck, throwing it over the back of the chair I just vacated. God, was that really just a few minutes ago? 

“Mr Novak, I really think it's time for me to leave,” I say mustering all the strength I can and squaring my shoulders. Maybe if he sees I'm not some little girl he can manipulate, he'll back down.

“Tut tut Matilda, that's not very polite now is it? In an interview situation, it is polite to wait until you are dismissed before attempting to leave” He drawls, taking one final step and stopping in front of me. The air between us is thick with the smell of his rancid coffee breath  
as his hand stretches out and tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear. 

I'm numb, I can't think, I can't speak... I can barely breathe... I swear my heart is about to explode out of my chest. His hand slides down my shoulder, over my bicep... down my forearm, and without warning, he circles his fingers tightly around my thin wrist and yanks my arm forward, pushing my hand on to his groin, the thin material of his suit trousers leaving nothing to the imagination so my fingers come into contact with the soft bulge that resides beneath them. 

“There now. That's better isn't it?” He almost purrs and I feel bile rising in my throat as his lips lean towards me and press themselves firmly against my own. His tongue pushing and prodding, trying to find an entrance but I grit my teeth together and keep them tightly closed. This isn't happening. I clench my trapped hand into a fist, but he continues to rub it up and down the length of him, undeterred. His lips finally leave mine as his head leans back and his eyes roll slightly as he moans in pleasure. I can feel his dick getting hard beneath my knuckles. 

“Let. Me. Go.” I growl through gritted teeth, desperately trying to free my wrist, but its no good, he's way too strong, I can't overpower him or even loosen his grip. I watch in horror as his free hand runs up my thigh and across my stomach, coming to rest over my breast which he squeezes, hard, causing me to whimper in pain. Fuck this. 

“I said let me go!” I scream, as I thrust my knee up in the space between us and feel it connect with my closed fist which is still pushed against his dick. The pain is excruciating, but thankfully, not just for me. 

His grip on me falters almost the instant that my knee connects, and I am able to wrench my hand free, I don't stop to watch as he cups himself, groaning in pain as he grasps his, hopefully, bruised member in his fat fingers and doubles over at the waist. My flight or fight instincts have finally kicked in and I shove past him, almost knocking him to the ground, and grasp the handles of my guitar case in one hand and my handbag in the other, cursing loudly as my bruised, possibly broken, fingers slide around the straps. I reach the doorway and flick open the lock, throwing the door open and sprinting through it. I don't stop. I don't even slow down. I can hear startled members of staff calling to me as I make my way past the walls of the glass-enclosed offices, one man has to dart out of my way in a thin corridor so that I don't barge into him, but I don't care. I just keep running.


	18. InterContinental Hotel, Greenwich, London, England

The journey back to the hotel is a complete blur, I barely register the tourists with their oversized backpacks, or commuters engrossed in their mobile phones swirling around me as I clamber on and off the tubes trying to ignore the throbbing in my swollen hand. It's not until I reach North Greenwich Station and step outside that I realise that it's raining and that my clothes are practically soaked through.. when did that happen? I wonder to myself as I hoist my guitar over my shoulder with my good hand and start the short walk to the InterContinental hotel where the crew are all staying tonight. At least I don't have to worry about running into Harry there. As his house is close to the venue, he'll be staying there tonight.

I can feel the dull vibration of my phone in my pocket as what seems to be a hundred messages come through now that I've got signal again and shift myself slightly so I can pull it out. 4 missed calls and 5 texts.. dammit. The missed calls are, predictably, all from Harry and there is a voicemail too which I don't bother listening to as I keep my head firmly down against the rain as I make along by the river. 3 of the texts seem to be from Harry too, for fuck's sake. 

I clear the missed calls and decide to check the other two texts first, wanting to prolong the moment that I have to speak to Harry for as long as possible. What on earth am I going to say to him? 'Thanks for setting up the meeting with the massive pervert Harry, being sexually assaulted was at the top of my to-do list this week?' 

Suddenly, a horrible thought hits me square in the chest and I feel my blood run cold. What if Harry knew what would be expected of me at this interview? Novak sure as hell thought I had slept my way into his office... what if that's just standard practice in the music industry and I was just too naïve to realise? What if... what if Harry will be expecting me to repay him for setting this up? Just like Novak said? 

The more rational part of my brain is telling me that the man who emblazons his merchandise with the words 'Treat People with Kindness' and has been nothing but nice to me since the day I met him, isn't anything like Mr Novak, that he would never expect the kinds of things that he did. But unfortunately, right now, I am too shaken to be rational. All I want to do is get to the hotel and curl up in a ball under the covers of my tiny bed and sleep until my hand stops throbbing. 

Trying to distract myself I flick open my messages, the first is from Sammy, asking if I'll be heading back to the hotel or going straight to the venue this afternoon, and the second is from my brother asking how the interview went, god, I didn't even think about what I'm going to tell Michael. Why did I have to tell so many people about this fucking interview? I scold myself, and without thinking, I flick open the texts from Harry. 

“How did it go? H x” 13:53

“The curiosity is killing me here trouble! Give me a call when you can! H x” 14:11

“Ok, I'm assuming you've forgotten to take your phone off silent... call me. H x” 14:39

The messages all seem innocent enough, of course, he's going to want to know how I got on, he's just being a good friend checking in.. isn't he? Shit, I can't deal with this right now, I mutter under my breath as the hotel finally comes into view through the sheets of ice-cold rain, and I shove my phone back into my pocket as I make my way into the lobby, silently praying that Sammy has slunk off for an afternoon rendezvous with Freddie and that I'll have some peace and quiet for a little while. 

Of course, though, I am just not that lucky. I've barely opened the door to our room before Sammy comes bouncing over to me, loud and overexcited as usual and starts firing questions at me as if we're on university fucking challenge. 

“Mads! You're back!! How did it go? Are they going to sign you? Did they like the song you picked out? Was the person you saw nice? I bet he was nice, Harry wouldn't send you off to meet an arsehole now, would he! Tell me everything!!” she babbles at top speed as I sling my guitar down on a nearby chair and shrug off my jacket. I can't control the hiss of pain that escapes my lips as I pull my injured hand through the wet sleeve and, instinctively, I cradle it against my chest. 

“Maddie.. what the fuck happened to your hand?” Sammy exclaims, reaching out to gingerly try and take my swollen digits in her own, it's this simple act of kindness that breaks through the walls I've had up since the moment I ran out of that creeps office, the concern in Sammy's wide eyes as she carefully inspects my hand, which I notice has now turned a rather fetching shade of purple in places, I feel the hot, wet tears streaming down my face before I've even registered that I am crying. 

“Aww honey, please don't cry!” Sammy begs me, but I barely hear the words as she leads me carefully over to the nearest bed, which happens to be hers and sits me down. “I'm going to get you some ice ok? Just, stay here for a minute” she says more firmly and turns towards the door. 

A rush of fear creeps over me again and I blurt out to her retreating back “Don't tell anyone I'm back yet. Please.” she shoots me a confused look over her shoulder but nods slowly before heading out of our room, returning a few minutes later with a tea towel full of what I assume to be ice which is dripping slightly, leaving tiny puddles in her wake as she makes her way back over to my side. When she presses the compress against my hand I let out an involuntary groan of pain and try to tug my hand away, but she holds me firmly by the elbow, keeping me in place. It's then that I notice that it's not just my hand that is purple, my wrist also sports a large bruise from where his fingers encircled it, and I am willing to bet, from the throbbing in my thighs, that when I take my soaking jeans off, there will be matching marks on both of my legs. A trickle of bile works its way into my throat as I remember the feel of his weight pinning me to that chair and I have to forcefully swallow it and beg myself not to puke all over Sammy. 

“Maddie, can you tell me what happened? Please?” Sammy asks in a low, soothing voice, all her usual bubbly-ness has disappeared. If I were able to register anything properly at the moment, I would see that her face is ashen and there are tears glistening in the corners of her eyes, but I can't, I can't think about anything. 

After a few minutes of silence, Sammy stands and makes her way to my suitcase, pulling out various items of clothing. 

“We need to get you changed, you'll catch your death if we don't get you out of those wet clothes soon” 

“I've made your bed wet” I reply blandly, looking down at the sheets below me which are a darker colour than the rest of the off-white bedspread. 

“Don't worry about that” she replies as she bends and starts to remove my boots and sodden jeans, she gasps when she catches sight of the handprint-shaped bruises on both of my upper thighs, but thankfully, doesn't ask me about them. She helps me into a pair of comfy grey jogging bottoms before carefully peeling me out of my top, which is sticking to my skin, and patting me dry with a towel before throwing me my crew issued TPWK T-shirt, I pull a face but allow her to continue dressing me. It's nice to be dry again. 

“We need to get that hand looked at. I'm going to call Paul and tell him...” 

“NO!” I shout, interrupting her mid-sentence and grabbing hold of her arm with my good hand as she turns to get her phone, “You can't tell Paul.. you can't..” I am almost hyperventilating with the effort of forcing out the words through my clenched teeth, the idea of Paul or worse still, Jeff hearing about the way I behaved this afternoon fills me with absolute horror and I can't seem to catch my breath. 

“Hey, hey, don't worry, I'll just tell them you had an accident and I need to take you to A&E that's all, it's not like I could tell them what happened even if I wanted to, you've not told me yet, remember?” she replies soothingly “They've already witnessed how clumsy you are so it's not like they won't believe me” 

“Right, yeah.. sorry” I mumble, taking a seat back on the bed and realising, too late, that I've sat straight back down in the wet patch. Good one Mads, you're just on a roll today. 

After 4 hours of sitting in a freezing cold accident and emergency waiting room on rock hard plastic chairs which have got to be nearly as old as I am, I'm finally taken off for an x-ray and told that I have a sprained wrist and a fracture in my fifth metacarpal, which the kindly looking older nurse with the motherly face and hair greying at the temples, explains means that I have broken the bone that supports my little finger, it's a common injury, most often caused by sustaining a blow to the hand whilst having a closed fist. Her words send flashes of images rushing in front of my eyes at breakneck speed, my hand, clenched into a tight fist, pressed up against the hard length of Mr Novak's dick.. my knee shooting up between us and connecting hard with the flesh on the outside of my hand.. the excruciating pain that followed... 

Thankfully the nurse tells me that the fracture will not require surgery and all I need to do is where a splint for a few weeks whilst it heels. If I were more myself, I'd be horrified that I won't be able to play the guitar for the foreseeable future, or maybe glad that it's my left hand I've damaged and not my right, as at least I should still be able to work mostly as I am right handed. But I can't seem to focus on anything at the moment other than the flashes of memory.

As Sammy and I make our way out of the hospital, my hand in its splint and a support around my wrist, my phone begins to vibrate in my handbag, and she shoots me a knowing look. 

“Harry?” she asks

“Probably” I shrug. Not even  
bothering to check. He's called at least once an hour since we got here and each time I've let the call go to voicemail. Whilst we were sat in the waiting room, I went over and over a million different conversations with him in my head, but I've yet to find one with a positive outcome. The way I see it, either he's going to be utterly confused that I didn't just give Novak what he wanted, and be pissed at me for causing a scene, or he's going to feel guilty and be angry at himself for putting me in that situation. Or maybe, he'll just not care at all. None of these options seems good to me, so for now, I am going to go with silence. 

Once we get back to the hotel, Sammy sets me up in bed with the TV remote whilst she goes off to get us a takeaway and some junk food, despite me having told her that I'm really not hungry. She's not gone long, and when she returns with enough food to feed the entire crew, I am shocked to see that she's not alone. 

“Hey, Kiddo” Clark's familiar voice echoes across the room as he takes a seat on the end of my bed and puts a warm oversized hand on my ankle. Instantly I shrink away from his masculine touch, but regret it when I see the look of concern that floods his large blue eyes, have they always been that blue I wonder? As Sammy takes a seat on her bed opposite us and position's her elbows on her knees, leaning forwards towards me. 

“Maddie, you have to tell us what happened.” She says in a calm voice. 

“I.. I don't think I can. I just want to forget about it” I mumble back, staring down at the bedspread and picking at a loose thread with my good hand. 

“Kiddo, how long have you known me? Come on, I've seen you crying hysterically when your first boyfriend broke up with you, watched you fall off the swing when you were trying to go over the top bar and ended up with that huge gash in your head, remember? I've seen you puking your guts up, happy as Larry... you can tell me anything.” Clark says 

“You'll tell Michael” I accuse him unfairly, not knowing for sure that he'd do any such thing, but hoping it might give me an excuse not to have to relive what happened. 

“Not if you don't want me to. I did promise him I'd take care of you though, so please Matilda, let me?” 

I look up at him then, our eyes meeting for the first time since he entered the room. He never calls me Matilda, or even Maddie or Mads, I'm always 'Kiddo' to him. Something about him using my given name softens me to him and I start to speak, focusing my eyes back on the loose thread in the bedding as I do so. 

It doesn't take long for me to recount my story. My voice wavers in places and a pool of wetness appears next to my hand on the bedspread as the tears slip freely from my eyes, but once I start, it's like I can't stop. I talk so quickly that I am not sure that either Sammy or Clark can actually follow what I am saying. Especially when my voice gets all thick and husky with tears and snot, but they don't interrupt me. I keep my eyes down, right up until I hear a resounding crash rebound around the small room and my head jerks up to locate the source of the noise. 

“Sorry,” Clark says regretfully, and I see a small streak of blood on the whitewashed wall beside him. 

“I'm not sure how you breaking your hand too is going to help,” I say quietly. 

“Fucking bastard. I'll kill him” He says, but the tone in his voice doesn't match his words, he's not shouting, this isn't anger, its pure fury, and that scares me more than him punching the walls. 

I glance over at Sammy who is unusually quiet, and see the tear stains on her pale cheeks, I reach my good hand out across the space between us and clasp her hand in mine. “I'm sorry” I whisper. 

“Don't, don't apologise Maddie. You have nothing to apologise for, you hear me?” She says, more forcefully than I would have expected. “That... that...creep” she stumbles, trying to find a word that accurately describes her feelings towards Novak and coming up short, “Had NO right to touch you, none. Do you understand? You. Did. Nothing. Wrong.” She enunciates clearly, punctuating each word. Then she says the sentence that I cannot bear to hear. “Maddie, we have to tell Harry.”


	19. Sammy. Dublin, Ireland.

Despite the fact that she's only been on the tour for a few shows, setting up the barriers without Maddie chatting away at my side feels wrong somehow, I've gotten used to the easy banter between us and having to pick up after her clumsy arse, I don't tend to bond with other women all that well, something to do with my bad attitude according to my mum, but with her I felt a kinda instant connection, probably cos she's just as mouthy as I am I suppose. 

Since her 'accident' though, Paul's had her on light duties, which is probably for the best really given she's all one-handed and that, but it's meant that I've barely seen her. By the time I got back to our room after the last show in Glasgow, she was already curled up in bed, purposefully facing the wall, pretending to be asleep. I say pretending, cos it's bloody obvious to anyone with eyes that she's barely been sleeping at all, the dark circles surrounding hers prove that. 

She's been a totally different person to the loud, happy girl I met in Birmingham since her interview with that fucking creep though, god what I wouldn't give to get five minutes alone with that arsehole.. he deserves more than a knee in the dick after what he said and did to her, even Clark, who is like, the most laid-back bloke I've ever met, was desperate to go to his office before we left town and give him what for, but neither of us really felt like we could leave her alone, and to be fair, it would probably have just traumatised her more if I'd let him go beat the shit out of Novak, no matter how much he deserved it. 

The night Mad's told us what had happened, Clark ended up sleeping on the floor between our beds in our tiny hotel room. Thank fuck no one spotted him leaving the next day, we'd have been the talk of the crew if they'd put two and two together and come up with five, in the way that anyone would seeing a bloke leaving the hotel room of two girls first thing in the morning. And since then, one of us has tried to be with her as much as possible, but there are some things we can't control, like our work schedules. I hate seeing her so broken, but I know it's much worse for Clark, I know he looks at her like his kid sister and I can only imagine what my family would do if someone tried to force me to do something like that against my will. 

Despite us both telling her she needs to, there's one thing that Maddie still hasn't managed to do though, and that's talk to H. I noticed as we got off the plane in Glasgow that she didn't even bother to turn her phone back on after switching it off for the flight, she just tucked it into her suitcase and, as far as I can tell, it's still there now, I guess she got tired of dodging his calls. I don't know how long she reckons she can avoid him for though, he's the bloody star of the bloody show after all, at some point, she's going to have to face him, like it or not. 

I flick my eyes up to the stage where H and the band are running through sound check and take a long hard look at his usually too beautiful-for-his-own-good face, and even I can see that he's not himself, his usual cheeky smile is missing as he goes through the motions with the band, strumming away on his guitar to Two Ghosts, but seeming like he's a million miles away, I guess I'm not the only one who felt a connection with Maddie, looks like her avoiding him is starting to take it's toll. 

As the band start up another track, I make my way backstage to grab a quick drink before I head off to help set up the B stage. I know I'm a fucking coward, but honestly, I've been avoiding H nearly as much as Mad's has been the last couple of shows. It's not like I know him well or anything, he's certainly never driven me around in some stupidly expensive posh rental car, mores the pity, but I do know him well enough to know that he's not stupid, he's well aware that Maddie and I are friends and that we've taken to rooming together, and I figure it's only a matter of time before he starts asking me why she's avoiding him, and I'm a shit liar, there's no way he'll believe that I don't know. 

I glug down my water as quickly as possible, which gives me possibly the worst timed case of the hiccups that I have ever had, I try and hold my breath as I walk back out into the arena, not wanting to draw attention to myself, but of-fucking-course, just as I am slipping past the main stage, trying to be all inconspicuous and shit, my diaphragm betrays me and I let out what has got to be the loudest hiccup known to mankind. 

“Jesus!” I hear Harry exclaim into his mic as he looks over at me wide-eyed, his hand pressed against his heart in shock, half the crew instantly fall about laughing and I can feel my face start to grow hot as I bob into a mock curtsey and try and laugh along with them.. whilst still hiccuping, for fucks sake. I quickly try and make my way down to B Stage but I've not gone more than a few steps when H starts to call out to me. 

“Sammy? Wait up! Can I have a minute?” he asks in his slow drawl and I can hear his footsteps behind me as he jogs to catch up. 

Turning around slowly, I try and fix a smile on my face and look normal, as if that's ever going to happen. I seem to have finally stopped hiccuping though, so that's something. 

“Sure H, I've not got long though, my boss is kind of a tyrant ya see, and he'll kick my arse if his stages aren't set up in time” I try and joke, but I can see from the look in his eyes that he's not in a joking mood. Seems my attempts to avoid him have been in vain and I start scrambling around in the deepest darkest corners of my mind to come up with some excuse to give him for Maddie being MIA. 

“Funny,” He says, without a trace of humour as I stand stock-still in front of him, waiting impatiently for the question I know is coming. “Erm, I was just wondering, you share a room with Maddie right? It's just, well, I've erm, I've been trying to get hold of her since London, but... I dunno, is her phone broken or something? I've seen her around a little... but...” He trails off and runs a hand through his curly brown locks, clearly searching for the right words, and I instantly feel bad for him, he's Harry Styles for fucks sake, I'm guessing most women would run into burning buildings to answer a call from him this can't be a situation he's had to deal with too often, it also can't be easy having to come and ask me what's going on either. 

“Harry, I really think you should be talking to Maddie about this, it's none of my business..” I say, trying to get out of the sticky situation I have landed myself in whilst inwardly cringing that I just accidentally quoted one of his own lyrics to him. Shit. This is why getting close to people on tour is a bad idea, even when people aren't romantically involved, things can get messy fast. 

“It's not like I haven't tried! Please, Sammy, I know something's going on, she hasn't spoken to me since before her meeting on Thursday and, when I see her around the venue or the hotel, it's like.. I don't know.. it's like she's avoiding me, and her hand... Paul said she had some kind of accident? I just.. I need to know she's ok” Harry stammers, speaking even more slowly than usual, his bright green eyes boring into mine, jeez, his stare is intense. 

I glance around the arena quickly, hoping to spot Paul or Clark maybe, damn even Freddie would be a sight for sore eyes right now, anyone who I can excuse myself to go off and talk to instead of being stuck in a corner of the huge arena with H begging me for answers that I don't think I can give him, but there's no one within earshot of us at all, typical, there's never any peace on this tour but of course the one moment I want other people to be around, they all disappear into some kind of mysterious black hole that only they can see. I look back at H and I can feel my resolve faltering, there's a pleading look in those big eyes of his that I reckon even the most stubborn of people would have trouble resisting. 

“Harry.. I...” 

“Please Sammy, just tell me she's ok?” he begs and I feel the last tiny bit of my resolve give way.

Fuck, am I really going to do this? Betray Maddie this way? I know, without a doubt that she should be the one to tell him, but will she? Surely he has a right to know, he was the one who set up that fucking meeting after all, what if he sends another unsuspecting girl over there and that perv tries the same routine again? How many times has he already done it? I question myself as Harry stands towering over me, his arms folded tightly across his chest making the tattoos on his muscular forearms bulge. 

“Not here” Is all I manage to say in return, but it's enough, his expression changes instantly to one of determination and he places a large hand on the small of my back. 

“Come with me” He orders and starts marching me backstage. 

He leads me through a maze of corridors, each whitewashed hallway covered in different tour posters from artists who've played in this venue over the years, the bright colours and smiling faces seem to taunt me as we make our way past them, eventually reaching a door with a laminated piece of paper stuck to the front proclaiming to be his dressing room. 

Harry pushes open the door and gestures for me to go inside and I can't help but be a little star struck, I've never been in his, or anyone else's dressing rooms for that matter. There are floor-length curtains covering every wall giving the room a homely, comforting feel, and a large couch is positioned right in the centre adorned with Gucci cushions, really H? I think to myself as he follows me in and shuts the door. 

“Maybe we should sit?” I ask him quietly as my brain works at a million miles an hour trying to work out what I should say. 

“Sammy, you're freaking me out, can you just tell me what's going on please?” Harry says sharply and I cower slightly under his imposing gaze, I don't think I've ever seen him even slightly angry before and the effect is unnerving. 

“Ok, Sorry, this isn't easy for me you know, I really shouldn't be telling you at all” I snap back but he this time he doesn't answer me, he just stands there staring, waiting for me to continue. “Yes, she's been avoiding you ok? That meeting you sent her off to? Well, the guy she saw turned out to be a complete fucking pervert alright! He.. he.. he tried to fucking force himself on her” I blurt out, my tone much harsher than it should have been when delivering such shitty news, nice one Sammy you idiot. I scold myself. 

“WHAT?” Harry shouts and I swear the combination of his deep booming voice and the look of complete horror on his face nearly makes me run from the room right then. “He? You said HE? My friend at the label, the one I sent the video to, is a SHE not a he?” He questions still confused. 

“Yeah well, apparently she wasn't available, so Maddie saw some other guy instead, Novak his name was. And after grilling her about what sexual favours she'd bribed you with to get an interview there in the first place, he then told her he'd only sign her if she gave him the same. She ended up kneeing him in the balls, but, well, her hand was in the way and she broke it, that's the 'accident' she had! Not to mention the sprained wrist and the fucking bruises she's covered in” I shout, my own fury at the situation finally bursting out from me after days of trying to keep it caged up whilst Maddie's been around. 

“FUCK!” Harry shouts again “Fuck fuck fuck!” He spins suddenly and with a swipe of one of his long arms, pushes over a nearby clothes rail which is holding what I assume is his suit for tonight's show, it crashes to the floor where he continues to kick it manically. Cursing at the top of his lungs. “I need to see her” he finally says when he's done kicking the shit out of everything within reach, the dressing room looks like a tornado's just swept through it. 

“H, Harry, you don't have time right now, you've got to be on stage in little over an hour,” I tell him, glancing at the clock on the wall “Besides, don't you think maybe you should try and calm down a bit first? You can't go to her like this, she's scared enough at the moment.” I say, trying to keep my voice level, I can't have him storming off to confront her backstage where anyone could hear about this shit, hell, we shouldn't be talking about it here in the privacy of his dressing room even!

“Some dickhead tried to force himself on her at an interview that I fucking sent her to! How the fuck do you expect me to react?” Harry screams again, “I should have gone with her, I shouldn't have sent her off there on her own... Why wouldn't she tell me?” he starts, but I cut him off. 

“Don't. Don't do that, don't make it all about you. This isn't about you, or me or anyone else! It's about her Harry! Right now she's fucking scared out of her mind, in a huge amount of pain, and most of all? She's convincing herself that it's her fault! That this is just what people in the industry expect from young girls, and that she should have known, shouldn't have been so naïve. Shit, she's probably beating herself up over the fact that she might have let her one chance to follow her dreams slip away because she wouldn't suck the guys fucking dick” I'm yelling again and I know I've gone too far this time as I watch a look of horror and guilt slide over Harry's features as he recoil's at my words and collapses on to the sofa next to me, burying his head in his hands. 

“I wish she'd told me,” He says quietly, and I can hear the tears he is fighting to control in his thick voice as he speaks. 

“I'm sorry,” I say quietly. “Look, you should talk to her. We're in room 206, why don't you go up and see her after the show? Here, take this, I'll hang around in the bar for a bit of something after, give you guys some time to talk” I say, passing him the key card to our room. I know full well there's no chance Maddie will willingly open the door for him, or anyone else for that matter, I reckon she'd lock me out if she could, to be honest. 

Harry takes the card in his hand and stands, wiping his eyes on the hem of his T-shirt. “Thank you” 

“You're welcome, just so you know though if she kills me for telling you? I'm gonna come back and haunt your arse” I tease him, trying to lighten the tension in the room and he gives me a weak smile. “Try not to think about it for now ok? You've got a show to do” I add as I get up to leave. 

“Yeah... I'll try” He says and gives me a brief hug. Just as I reach the door he calls out to me, “I'm really sorry Sammy, I never wanted... I never meant...” 

“I know,” I tell him, and with that, I leave him alone in his dressing room and head off to the cafeteria, praying that Paul hasn't noticed my absence and that someone else managed to finish setting up the B Stage barriers when I disappeared.


	20. Guilt, Shame and Heartache. Dublin, Ireland.

I guess the one benefit to this whole mess is that now Paul's got me on what he calls 'light duties', which basically seems to means anything I can do with one hand, I get to finish hours before the rest of the crew have completed takedown after the shows and manage to sneak away to my room without anyone trying to convince me to go out for a drink with them, or worse, ending up getting back when Sammy's already asleep and snoring loud enough to wake the dead as usual. 

I don't want to be the boring moody one, always hiding away and missing out on all the fun, but no matter how hard I try, I can't seem to pull myself together. No matter how many almost unbearably hot showers I take, I can still feel his fingertips digging into my thighs.. his hand grabbing roughly at my breast, I've brushed my teeth a thousand times but I swear I can still taste the coffee that stained his lips when he forced them on to mine. Although my bruises are starting to fade to a dull yellowish colour in places now, and the pain in my hand is much less than it was, there doesn't seem to be a minute of the day when I am not thinking about what that... that... man did to me. 

Maybe it's time to just call it a day? I wonder as I make my way up the stairs of the hotel back to me and Sammy's room. Stop play acting and trying to convince myself and everyone around me that I'm alright, and head back home. Back to my little flat in London, back to my little purple car and trawling up and down the country playing the same songs in the same tired old venues. I am sure I could get a few of my old gigs back if I made enough phone calls and begged the right people, I could get away with not playing my guitar until my hand heels... 

God knows I can't stay here. I can't keep avoiding Harry forever, eventually, I am going to end up having to speak to him and then what? Do I tell him what happened? I'm still not sure what his reaction would be, but I am positive that it would make for a really fucking awkward friendship afterwards regardless. Or do keep it to myself? And just hope that he doesn't send any more unsuspecting women Novak's way? If he hasn't already, and pretend like everything's normal?

Clumsily, I pull the key card for the room out of my pocket, cursing my useless left hand, and push it into its slot on the door, it takes me three tries before the bloody thing actually opens, the little red light winking at me sarcastically until it eventually turns green and I hear the lock click. What was wrong with regular old metal keys? These things never fucking work, I think to myself as I push open the door. 

It takes my brain a few seconds to catch up with the sight that greets me when I make my way into the room, it just looks so bizarre that I can't quite get my head around it and I have to blink a few times before I convince myself that my eyes aren't deceiving me. 

There, laying across my bed in loose yellow trousers and a white T-shirt, one arm slung behind his head and the other holding his phone, eyebrows furrowed together in concentration, looking just like a regular 24-year-old guy, is Harry. Shit. 

“Crap” He complains, as he jumps off the bed when he notices me, dropping his phone on the floor in the process. “Sorry, you scared me” he adds and I can't help but raise my eyebrows at him. 

“Erm, I am the one who's just walked into her hotel room to find a superstar lounging on her bed.. yet you're the one that's scared?” I say briskly, my voice coming out a little harsher than I intended it to, was he always this good looking? I wonder as I hover uncomfortably in the doorway, unsure what to do. My first instinct is to ask him to leave. 

“What are you doing in here Harry?” I ask him. 

Slowly he starts to step towards me, and without thinking, I flatten myself against the wall behind me, leaving plenty of space between me and the still open door for him to exit through without touching me. I can't let anyone touch me. Not Clark, barely even Sammy, certainly not Harry. 

To my dismay though, he doesn't leave. He simply reaches past me and grasps the door handle with his long fingers and pulls it closed quietly, as he turns back around to face me and our eyes meet, I realise instantly, without a shadow of a doubt, that he knows. Shit. 

I wrench my gaze away from his and fix it firmly on a badly drawn painting of a sunflower on the wall behind his head, trying to ignore his presence entirely and mostly still hoping he'll just go away, but of course, that would be too easy. 

“Maddie... I'm so sorry, I had no idea I swear! I thought you were going to meet my friend Julie! I had no fucking idea that I was sending you off to some perverted bastard on a power trip” Harry says in a low voice which is almost a growl. “If I'd have had any idea at all... I'd never, well, I'd have got the bastard sacked if I'd known! I would never have sent you there! I'm so so sorry” he repeats, struggling for words, I can hear the pain in his voice, the sincerity, and I can't help but believe him. But that doesn't make me want to have this conversation any more than I did ten minutes ago. 

“Who told you?” are the only words I can find to respond to his heartfelt apology and even those only come out as a whisper. I don't dare move my eyes from the sunflower, if I look at him, I'll fall apart. I know I will. And he doesn't need to deal with that. 

“Sammy, but, please don't be upset with her, I didn't give her a choice, I knew something was wrong, that you were avoiding me, and I made her tell me. She gave me this” he says and pulls something out of his pocket, forcing me to look down into his hand to see Sammy's key card sitting on his open palm and I notice randomly, that for once he's not wearing his rings. “She didn't think you'd let me in if I knocked.. so I came up here after the show and waited for you” he admits sheepishly

I reach out to take the keycard from him with my injured hand, fairly sure it can at least cope with the weight of such a small item, as I grip the plastic between my thumb and forefinger, Harry's other hand begins to rise in my peripheral vision, heading towards me and I shrink back, snatching the key card and sidestepping out of his reach in the small hallway. 

“Sorry” He mumbles, and his face falls, I can hear a catch in his voice, my cringing away from him like that has upset him, or was it just the close-up sight of my bandages and the edges of yellow peeking out from the bruises around my wrist? Shit. 

“It's fine, sorry, I'm not very good company right now, you should probably go back to your room” I say quickly, dismissing him, I make my way further into the room and perch on the edge of my bed, swinging up one of my feet on to my lap to start to try and undo my boot but instantly wishing I hadn't when a jolt of pain slices through my hand at the movement. 

In the blink of an eye, Harry is on his knees before me in the tiny little hotel room, with the horrifically bright red and green patterned bedspreads and the badly painted sunflower on the wall, and I wonder again how on earth this became my life as he slowly raises his hands towards my foot 

“May I?” He questions and I nod minutely, cradling my sore hand against my chest and bracing myself for his touch. He is exceedingly gentle, I barely feel it as he slides the zip down on my boot, careful not to touch my leg in any way, and slides it off before picking up my other foot and repeating the motion. It's such a tender gesture that I feel tears welling up in the corners of my eyes and I blink them back frantically, not wanting to embarrass myself more than I already have. 

Once both my boots are safely stored on the floor, Harry stands and settles himself on Sammy's bed opposite me, leaning forward slightly on his elbows, I can feel his eyes boring into mine, but I've found a weird stain on the carpet to stare at now instead of the sunflower, it kind of looks like a heart... if I squint my eyes a bit and sort of let them glaze over... 

“Maddie, will you tell me what happened? Please?” Harry asks in a soft voice a few moments later, breaking my concentration just as the heart was taking shape, dammit. 

I shake my head slowly. “I thought Sammy already told you,” I say whilst inwardly panicking, I feel sweat beading on my forehead. I can't do this, I can't talk to him about this, I barely know him for fuck's sake, he'll think I'm crazy for reacting this way to some idiot who got a bit handsy with me. I'm sure he's seen and heard of much worse during his time in the industry and he'll just think I am being a complete baby falling apart like this over an incident so small. 

“Well, she didn't tell me much. Just that he said some things.. and tried to touch you.. she said you kneed him in the balls, and that that was how you hurt your hand. But that's all really, and it was hard enough getting her to tell me that much.” he sighs “Please Trouble, talk to me” he pleads quietly and whether its the use of the affectionate nickname or the tone in his voice, I'm not sure, but I feel my lips start to move and hear the words tumbling out of my lips before I've even decided to say them, finally unleashing the thoughts that have been swirling around my mind, barely acknowledged, since Thursday afternoon. 

“I'm really sorry Harry! I know you went out of your way to set up that meeting for me and I completely fucked it up! I.. I didn't mean to! He just started saying all this stuff about how I must have bribed you with sex to get into his office in the first place and that, that if I would do the same for him then he'd put my name forward to his bosses and see about getting me signed with the label, but I couldn't! I just couldn't! I didn't mean to cause any trouble for you.. it was instinct, he had my hand pushed up against his … his....” I trail off unable to locate the right word  
in my frazzled brain, I can feel Harry's eyes burning into me from across the room, but I keep my eyes focused on the misshapen heart on the carpet and watch idly as the fabric around it grows darker as my tears finally spill over and hit the floor. I keep talking a million miles an hour, knowing that if I don't get this all out now, I never will. “And, and then, he grabbed my boob and I just reacted! I know I probably just ruined my best chance of ever actually getting signed, and I know that most women probably would have just done what he asked... but I just couldn't!” I say in a rush, the words tumbling over each other and becoming almost incoherent through my tears. 

By the time I am finished, I am out of breath and I can feel my entire body shaking, making the rickety wooden bed frame beneath me vibrate. I suck in huge gulps of air, willing myself to calm down, pleading with myself to just stop crying at least. This is it, I'll have to quit. There's no way I can stay here now, not after this display, I've made a complete fucking prat out of myself in front of Harry for the last time I vow as I brush the tears away frantically with the back of my good hand. 

“Maddie look at me” Harry's voice cuts through my sobs but I shake my head at the floor refusing his request. I hear the bed creak as Harry stands and once again positions himself on his knees on the now slightly wet floor between us, kneeling right on top of the little misshapen heart. His big green eyes swim before me as he bends his head at a ridiculous angle to look into mine, finally forcing me to meet his gaze. 

“I'm proud of you,” Harry says, in a soft voice. “Not everyone would have had the strength to have done what you did and to get out of there, you're an incredibly strong woman you know that?” 

He's proud of me? I've played this conversation over and over in my head a thousand times and that is without a doubt, the last thing that I expected for him to say. But his sincerity is overwhelming and brings yet more tears to my eyes as we stare at each other in silence for a few moments. He's proud of me. 

“I'm going to come sit with you ok?” Harry says quietly, waiting for my slight nod of acknowledgement before standing and making his way on to the bed next to me, I feel the mattress depress with his added weight, and the warmth emanating from him as our shoulders brush together. Then slowly, deliberately, giving me every chance to move away or stop him if I need to, he raises his arm and puts it gently around my shoulders. 

It's like a cure I didn't know I needed right up until that very moment, the minute that I feel his arm around me my whole body slumps and I slide sideways into him, my head falling onto his broad chest, tucking beneath his chin as his other arm circles around me and pulls me tightly against him, cocooning me in his embrace as he lets out a heavy sigh. I don't think I've ever felt so safe in my life and for the first time in days, I feel myself start to calm down, I stop thinking about everything that's happened up until now, and just concentrate on the feel of his strong arms around me, forming a protective shield between me and the rest of the world as my tears soak silently into his T-shirt


	21. We don't talk enough, we should open up. Ireland.

And there we stayed, side by side on my tiny hotel bed, his arms locked around me with one hand tracing patterns on my back, his chin resting gently on the top of my head in silence, neither of us seemed to be in any hurry to release the other, so I let myself lay in the protective bubble for as long as I felt I could reasonably get away with, only sitting up when my neck started to cramp from being in the strange position for too long.

As I straightened I risked a glance at Harry and saw his plump pink lips pressed tightly together and a frown crossing his face, his hands which were now free from me, clasped in his lap in tight fists. Shit.

Abruptly he stood, startling me a little, and began pacing around the small room, managing only 4 or 5 strides with his long legs before meeting an obstacle and tutting under his breath at having to turn and change direction. Well this can't be good, I thought to myself, as the calm I was feeling just moments ago floated away and my stomach tied itself up in knots again.

“Harry?” I asked timidly and he snapped his head up to look at me, it seemed to take him a moment to remember I was even there.

“I'm sorry. I told Sammy I wouldn't do this in front of you. I just.. Argh! I want to fucking kill him!” He growled, his normally bright green eyes darkening with fury. “Men like that make me sick, how dare he think he could treat you like that? I'm going to be placing a few calls in the morning if he honestly thinks for one second that he's going to get away with this... ”

“I just want to forget about it,” I reply in little more than a whisper, the venom in his voice making me afraid to speak in case I manage to piss him off even more.

“No.” came his stern reply after a few moments of silence.

“No? What do you mean no?”

“I mean no. We aren't just going to forget about this and wait for him to pull the same shit on someone else, someone not as strong as you, someone who leaves with more than bruises and a broken hand. I won't have that on my conscience and neither will you.” Harry states and, although I may not know him that well yet, even I am not so stupid as to think that there is any point in trying to argue with him so I keep my mouth firmly shut.

I watch him in silence for a few more minutes as he continues to pace. Occasionally running his hand through his hair, which, without its usual styling, looks longer and curlier than I have seen it before. Eventually, he sits back down on Sammy's bed opposite me and expels a large puff of air, he takes a few moments to compose himself before raising his eyes to meet mine again and I notice, with relief that they are reverting back to their normal colour as he calms down.

“Can you tell me what happened? Please?” He asks solemnly, and although I knew he was going to ask, I still feel a chill run down my spine at the thought of having to relive it all again and shake my head slowly.

“Harry.. I... I really don't think I can”

“I know it's not easy and I wouldn't ask if it weren't necessary. I'm not just trying to pry or whatever here, I need to know what he did before I start making calls. If you'd rather not talk to me, we could call the police? Get this resolved officially. Why didn't you just call them in the first place?” He asks raising his eyebrows at me as if this question has only just occurred to him.

“Because.. well they have much more important things to be dealing with! And it would have just been my word against his, some little nobody against a big wig record executive? They wouldn't have cared if I had called.” I tell him, getting frustrated now. “And we are not calling them now either! I don't want to get some kind of reputation amongst your colleagues as that girl who reported Novak, I've probably already ruined the best chance I had at getting my dream Harry don't you understand that? I'm not about to make it any worse!” Now it was my turn to start shouting as I stood abruptly mid-rant and began retracing the same route Harry was pacing moments ago, only, with my much shorter legs and sock covered feet.

“Of course you haven't!! God Maddie, not everyone in the industry is like him I swear! You should never have to offer up any part of yourself that you don't want to in order to make your way in this world, but especially not your body!”

“I'm not speaking to the police Harry. If you call them I'll lie. I'll tell them nothing happened” I say stubbornly, turning to face him and crossing my arms over my chest, wincing in pain as I accidentally crush my bruised hand against my ribcage. For fuck's sake when am I going to get used to this injury and stop making it worse! I scold myself.

“Hey, hey, its ok, calm down, no police, I'm sorry. Please, just come and sit down, you're in pain. Do you have any painkillers?” Harry asks, much more softly this time, his low voice back to its soothing, apologetic tone.

“In the bathroom,” I say matter of factly and he jumps up and makes his way through the only other door in the room to the tiny en-suite which is furnished with nothing more than a toilet, shower and a sink so small you can't actually wash both of your hands in it at once. I hear the tap running for a few seconds before Harry returns, a small glass of water in one hand and a box of pills in the other.

“How many do you need?” He asks, handing me the water

“Two,” I tell him and watch as he presses the pads of his long fingers against each blister popping the small white pills into his open palm before holding it out to me. Carefully I pick them up with my bad hand and throw them into my mouth, gulping down the entire glass of water to wash them down. No sooner have I moved the glass back from my lips than Harry's fingers wrap around it, brushing lightly against mine and take it from me, he places it on the bedside table before he takes a seat back on the bed, mine this time, I notice idly as he pats the space on the mattress beside him and I sit down and try and brace myself to relive that afternoon, knowing that he isn't going to give me much of a choice and just hoping that, when he hears the full story, he doesn't change his tune.

It takes me a good forty-five minutes to finally get through telling him everything that happened on Thursday, from the moment I got off the tube in Soho and the idiot on his phone bashed into me, to when I got back to the hotel and to Sammy. Occasionally Harry interrupts me with a small question, seemingly wanting to know every insignificant detail. Where exactly was Novak's office situated in the building? Did anyone else see me enter or exit? How was the furniture arranged? But mostly he sat quietly on the bed next to me, unmoving, until I got to the part where Novak had grabbed my wrist.

“He just yanked it forward and pushed it against himself... I tried to get free, I told him to let go, but he was too strong and I couldn't. The next thing I knew he was kissing me” I said quietly, my eyes focused down in my lap as I absent-mindedly fiddled with a loose thread on my bandage. I heard a sharp intake of breath at this revelation and saw Harry's hand moving towards me slowly, coming to rest over both of mine, giving me the strength I needed to keep talking. “I, I curled my hand into a fist against him but he just kept rubbing it up and down himself... I could feel him getting harder under my knuckles.”I shuddered at the memory. “And then, then when he realised I wasn't going to just kiss him back and cooperate, he reached up and started groping my chest. I couldn't take any more then. I just reacted. I bought my knee up between us as hard as I possibly could. It connected with my hand mostly, but I guess it must have been hard enough to cause him some pain too because he let me go so that he could grab at himself... and I just shoved past him then and ran. I don't think I stopped running until I got onto the train and the doors closed behind me.” I admit, embarrassed.

“Maddie I am so sorry” Harry whispered, and as I finally looked towards him I could see the glistening of tears in his eyes. “I promise you, he'll never come anywhere near you ever again”

I nodded slowly, believing the utter sincerity of his words, and wondered why on earth I hadn't gone to Harry straight away. Why did I ever think for a minute that he would be anything other than supportive? This is the man whose motto is 'treat people with kindness' for god's sake, of course, he was going to be mortified that someone he knew, even a lowly crew member like me, had been put in a situation like that.

“Thank you, Harry. Please don't tell anyone else about this... I don't want to become the latest topic of crew gossip, although, really, I think it's probably best that I hand in my resignation, I'll talk to Paul tomorrow and make up some excuse. I'm sure he won't be too happy, me leaving so soon after I've arrived but...”

“Leave? What do you mean leave? Why on earth would you even think about leaving? I get that he's scared you, Maddie, it would have scared the shit out of me too! But he can't get you here! You're safe with us, you know that right? We aren't going anywhere near London again for the rest of the tour” Harry almost shouts, god his mood swings are giving me whiplash tonight. One minute he's calm and concerned for me, the next he's shouting so loudly that I'm surprised we've not had the hotel management knocking on the door to tell us to shut up yet. Although, thinking about it, this whole floor is reserved for the crew and no one who recognises Harry's booming voice is going to report their boss for being loud no matter what time it is.. hang on, what time is it? Where's Sammy? I suddenly wonder and look up at the clock, 2:30 am, wow it feels like we've been talking for so much longer than that...

“Maddie, are you listening to me? You aren't leaving the tour. You aren't giving up this opportunity because  
of that dickhead.” Harry's voice interrupts my thoughts again.

“Harry .. I.. I can't even do my job properly until this heals,” I say raising my hand between us for emphasis. “And I'm being so bloody miserable! I can't stay here bringing everyone down all the fucking time! This is a once in a lifetime opportunity for most of us, I can't ruin it for everyone else, but, I can't pretend that everything's fine either. What am I supposed to do? Hideaway in tiny hotel rooms for the next couple of months?” I ask him exasperated.

“No, no of course not. I really do need to talk to Paul about upgrading the crew rooms.. this is just... ew” He says, pointedly pinching at a corner of the green and red bedspread and pulling a face.

“Seriously? I've seen you wear suits in more garish designs” I quip, wanting desperately to break the tension in the room.

“Har Har. Actually... I did wear a suit similar to this in Manchester last year thinking about it, but, there was no green on that. Anyway, stop trying to change the subject. You aren't leaving the tour, Maddie. If you need somewhere to go and hide out, you can come to my room and we'll watch movies and eat shit junk food. But you aren't running away, you're stronger than that. I know you are. Don't let him win.”

“That's very sweet of you Harry, but you don't need me making you miserable either! You're the star of the show for god's sake. You don't need to be babysitting one of your crew all the damn time” I say

“I won't be. I'll be spending time with my friend. Who just happens to be hurting right now.”

“Harry...”

“Please Trouble? Come to Australia with me” Harry says, pushing my chin up with the tip of his long index finger so that our eyes meet, and staring into those green orbs, I can't find it in my heart to refuse him.

“Ok, I'll stay.. for now. But I'm not promising that I won't change my mind” I submit and am rewarded by his face breaking into a huge smile that lights up the teeny hotel room, I even feel the edges of my own mouth twitch up in response. Dammit, this man will be the death of me if I'm not careful. No wonder his fans worship him the way that they do.

Harry moves the conversation on to the next leg of the tour, asking if I've ever been to Australia before and recommending sights I should see and restaurants I should check out whilst we're there. He tells me some anecdotes about his previous visits down under with One Direction and before I know it, the sun starts to rise outside the grubby single pane window and I realise we've been talking for hours. Somehow Harry has managed to not only comfort me but completely distract me all night and I realise that maybe, with his support and with the help of Sammy and Clark, I just maybe might be able to get past this and see this thing through till the end.


	22. Leaving on a jet plane, Heathrow, London. England

Why on earth did I let him talk me into this? I ask myself for what is probably the hundred time since Harry called me on Tuesday afternoon and asked me if I'd like to join him and the band on their flight to Perth instead of going a day earlier with the crew. Maybe it was the lure of first class that did it... free food, comfy seats... or the fact that the flight that they are taking is direct and only, (haha only!) Just under 17 hours instead of being 25 hours plus with a 3 hour layover somewhere in Dubai like the crew flight plan was.. It goes without saying that it has nothing at all to do with the fact that I am somewhat inexplicably drawn to the tall man with the messy hair and luminous eyes and want to spend more time with him. Nope, absolutely nothing to do with that at all.... honestly. 

Whatever my brains fucked up reasons for agreeing to this were, it's too late to start second guessing them now. The rest of the crew are already halfway around the world and getting on this flight is my only option if I plan to keep my job, So that's how I now find myself sat in the back of some stupidly posh town car at 3am the early hours of Thursday morning heading away from my tiny little flat in London, where I managed to grab just under 24 hours of semi-peace and quiet whilst binge-watching a considerable amount of friends re-runs on Netflix, towards the bustling terminals of Heathrow airport. As we're going to be in Australia for a week before heading straight on to the Philippines.. then Singapore and so on and so forth to more countries than I can possibly remember before hitting the US, I had to pack a little more luggage this time around and leave my tarnished old pink suitcase at home in favour of a boring old black one that Michael was kind enough to drop over to me yesterday evening, or was it earlier this evening? God, I hate being up and about at silly o'clock... it totally confuses my brain. At least this way though, I should have enough underwear to last me for a couple of weeks before I have to search out a laundrette or beg a hotels cleaning crew to wash them for me. Who am I kidding? When I run out I have every intention of just going shopping and buying more to save myself some effort, #LazyCow. 

Also left behind was my precious guitar, it felt so bizarre to leave the flat without it, but it is just pointless paying the excess baggage fees to bring it along with me when I can't even play it at the moment. My hand is finally starting to heal, I squeezed in a quick trip to the hospital for an X-ray yesterday/earlier/whenever-the-fuck-it-was, and the doctor informed me that the bone is doing exactly what he wants it to be doing, good bone! However, I still need to keep the splint on for at least another fortnight and even then, it'll be a week or two until it'll be strong enough for me to pick up my guitar again so it just seemed stupid to drag it all around Australia and South East Asia with me. A choice I will no doubt regret once we reach the US and I'm still without it.. but its hardly like I won't be able to find one to borrow for a few minutes if I'm really desperate, I swear Harry travels without about 30 different guitars, not to mention all of Mitch's.. 

I might have snuck into the instrument storage van one night after a show and ended up just sat on the floor for nearly an hour.. idly running my fingers over the pristine instruments, all in their different shapes and sizes. I swear each and every one had its own personality and they seemed to call out to me to touch them, to play them, it almost seemed like a crime not to,... But I behaved myself. Mostly cos I know how fucking clumsy I am and that, knowing my luck, I'd end up breaking one that was worth more than the damn house I grew up in. 

Harry may have managed to forgive me for crashing into him after dropping the barrier on my foot on my first day, then for smashing my drink at his feet back in the hotel in Birmingham, and too many other indiscretions along the way. that I'd rather not dwell on just now, but I am pretty sure he'd be devastated if I damaged one of his precious guitars, same as I would be if anything happened to mine. I feel like I've left a bit of my soul behind as we finally reach the terminal though and I awkwardly heave my suitcase onto one of those stupid trolleys which always seems to have one wheel that scoots off in a completely different direction to the rest with a mind of its own, and makes my way through security, following the signs to the lounge that Harry instructed me to meet him at.

“Perfect timing Trouble! Was your journey alright?” Harry's deep voice calls out as he rises out of his chair to greet me with a casual one-armed hug as the automatic doors of the lounge swoosh open and the security guard next to me crosses my name off some kind of list. 

“It was fine, thanks, but you really didn't need to send a car. They have these wonderful things now called trains.. nifty little inventions, get you all over the place” I reply sarcastically, flashing him a small smile as we step back from our hug and inwardly praise myself for not cringing away from the contact. Since our talk the other night, we've only spoken a couple of times, once when he called to ask, or possibly more accurately to inform me, that I was getting on this flight with him, as in all honesty, he didn't give me much of an option, and a few texts here and there, just checking in, casual stuff. Thankfully he's not bought up Novak or the 'incident' again. I have no idea if he made the calls he said he was going to make or what the outcome of them was, but for now, he seems to be respecting my desire to forget about it all entirely and I'm grateful for that. It also makes it a lot easier to be around him when I don't have to see the look of pity in his eyes when he thinks about it for too long. 

“Sarcastic and annoying as always. Good to see you're getting back to your old self. Are you going to make me regret inviting you to travel with us?” He asks gesturing around the lounge at the other members of his inner circle. I spot Mitch and Sarah curled up in a corner of a sofa, in comfy oversized hoodies and jogging bottoms which I'm sure they're going to regret once we reach the land down under, Sarah is leaning on his shoulder with her eyes drooping closed as he watches a video on his phone, they're really quite adorable together. Adam is sat opposite them having an animated conversation with Jeff, who is accompanied by a woman I've not met yet but I've seen him with a few times now, I assume she's his other half, and Clare is standing by the window with her back to us talking in what seems to be rapid Japanese on her phone. 

“You've only got yourself to blame for that one Styles. This was your idea remember” I tease Harry, trying to keep the mood as light as possible. We're going to be stuck together for at least the next 18 hours... close together I'm assuming as I'm guessing we'll have seats next to each other on the plane, and the last thing that I want is for things to be awkward before we even board. Helpfully, I am so anxious about the flight itself that there's not really enough space in my overcrowded little mind to worry about Harry as well, he'll just have to wait his turn. 

Harry leads me over to the empty seats by Adam, his hand resting gently in the middle of my back guiding me along, where I am introduced to the woman, Glenne, who is indeed Jeff's other half and to Adam 'officially', having not really had cause to speak to him before now. I am then reintroduced to Jeff, who's dark eyebrows knit together as he seems to struggle to place me for a few moments before glancing at my hand and nodding slowly as recognition dawns on him, I'm guessing he's been told about my little 'mishap'.. hopefully Harry's kept his word and not told Jeff the truth though and he's only heard the same story I've told Paul and the rest of the crew. 

“Ahh right yeah, you're the new girl, right? Harry tells me you've got two left feet.. do me a favour? Try not to cause any more damage to yourself at least until we land in Perth eh?” He chuckles, clearly impressed with his own wit. 

“I'll do my best!” I say smiling, and promptly trip over thin air as I make my way towards an empty chair, stumbling forward towards him, arms flailing stupidly at my sides. Shit. The only thing that stops me from landing face first in his lap, is one of Harry's strong arms shooting out and encircling itself around my waist, pulling me upright. Thank god for his lighting fast reflexes I think to myself as I feel my face flame furiously. I try and find my feet again and desperately try not to register the fact that my arse is pressed right up against Harry's thighs... I really should have just flown with the crew. 

I quickly extricate myself from Harry.. which I seem to be doing an awful lot lately, and take a seat, planting myself firmly in the chair whilst he laughs loudly to himself at my inability to walk three steps without assistance and I determine not to move or even really speak much until such time as I absolutely have to in order to minimise the damage I can cause whilst we wait for our flight. 

The others chat around me happily, laughing away and making little inside jokes that I don't really understand, until eventually, a flight attendant in a perfectly fitted navy blue skirt and suit jacket with matching sky-high stilettos appears in front of us and tells us that it's time for us to board.

Abruptly my stomach sinks somewhere into my own, much less fashionable and thankfully nowhere near as high shoes and I have the overwhelming desire to throw up. I'm about to be trapped in a metal tube for 17 hours... a flying metal tube. Fuckity-fuck-fuck-fuck. 

“You ok there Trouble? You've gone kinda erm… green.” Harry says in a concerned tone, looming down at me from his full height now that he's vacated his chair. 

“Erm. Yes.. no. I .. err... Fuck.” I stutter incoherently and I notice a smirk twitching at the corners of his lips, bastard. 

“Come on, up ya get.” He says happily and reaches out a hand towards me. “It's just a plane. You've been on planes before” 

“Yes. Yes, I have. But for like... 3 hours at the very most. And even then it was only a 2-hour flight, we were just delayed taking off cos of some drunken hen party causing a ruckus... I can't say I've ever enjoyed the experience of floating miles above the ground in what is essentially a big metal Pringles tube with triangles stuck on its sides particularly.” I admit, still not getting up off of my seat and ignoring his proffered hand. 

“Ah, but this time you get to spend the entire journey with me! Totally different!” he tries to reassure me with a cheeky grin, but I still can't quite seem to make myself move off the chair, I am fairly certain that travelling with him makes this whole situation more nerve-racking, not less. I bet I throw up on him. Shit, what if I throw up on him??

As the attendant strides her way back over to us I notice that Adam, Jeff and the others have already boarded and that Harry and I are the last ones left in the spacious Qantas first class lounge. Well, its hardly like they're going to leave without him now, is it? 

“I'm sorry Mr Styles, but I really must ask you to begin boarding now please” She says flashing Harry an exasperated look as she looks from me to him and leaning in a little more closely than is strictly necessary for the quiet room to make sure he hears her, I bet he can feel her breath on his neck. Urgh, that's got to be annoying as hell, dealing with that all the time. The action, combined with the pleading look on Harry's face and his long outstretched fingers twiddling in the air between us, reaching towards mine, finally convince me that it's time to move, and, sighing heavily, I place my hand in his and allow him to pull me to my feet. 

“I'm sorry in advance if I puke on you” I mumble quietly to Harry, so that the attendant can't hear, and he chuckles quietly as he leads me towards the plane, his hand still clasped tightly around mine, for a second, just a second, a jolt of electricity between our palms distracts me from what I am walking into. But only for a second. Fuck.


	23. Well damn. Hotel gym, Dublin, Ireland.

Harry's perspective. 

 

By the time I leave Maddie's room, the sun has started to rise over the many tall office buildings surrounding our hotel in Dublin and a low mist is hanging around outside the windows. But, despite the hour, I don't feel tired at all. The revelations from tonight have left me with a shit load of excess energy that I need to work off. So I head back to my room and throw on a pair of shorts and a scrappy old T-shirt, before making my way down to the hotel gym, hoping that letting off a bit of steam will make me feel better.

I thought I had prepared myself to deal with hearing the rest of what happened in that fucking meeting before I went up to Maddie's room tonight. After speaking to Sammy I'd spent what little time I had before the show trying to get my head around it all, and I thought I had a plan. I had resolved to get as much information from Maddie as possible so that I would be well informed to make some calls later to get this situation dealt with and steeled myself to hear the worst, or so I thought. I'd promised myself I would control my temper in front of her, which I failed at a couple of times annoyingly. But I knew I had to be firm and get some details out of her too or there is no way I will be able to get Novak the punishment he deserves. 

The one thing I didn't prepare myself for was the way it felt hearing about another guy touching her though. I had no idea I would react the way that I did... that the mere thought of another man, any man, touching Maddie, consensually or not, absolutely infuriated me. I mean, of course as it was without her consent it was always going to be upsetting to anyone who knows or cares about her, but I didn't expect the searing fire burning somewhere deep in my belly when she described him kissing her. It wasn't just anger I was feeling, but jealousy too. When did that happen?

Sure Maddie's a great girl, she's feisty, witty and interesting and she has a wicked sense of humour, and of course, I noticed that she's pretty, I'm not blind. But I thought what I was feeling for her was nothing more than friendship. I like the fact that she treats me like a regular person and doesn't get all star-struck and tongue-tied like a lot of the crew members seem to, especially the girls, I can't stand them all flipping their hair and pouting their lips at me every time I attempt to have a conversation with them, so mostly I tend to limit myself to socialising with the rest of the band and the members of the team that I've worked with before. But, from the first moment Maddie literally came crashing into my life, with her two left feet, swearing like a sailor, she's treated me the same way she treats everyone else I've seen her talking to, and that's been so refreshing that I couldn't help wanting to spend more time around her, although having to try and calm her down after the events at that fucking meeting wasn't quite what I had in mind.

I realise I am clenching my fists as I make my way down to the gym in the basement of the hotel, taking the stairs two at a time and using the exercise as my warm up. What the fuck made him think he could put his hands on her?? And the shit he said to her about me as well, I want to hit him for that alone. How dare he insinuate that I'd somehow use my position, my fame, my job, whatever the hell you want to call it, to lure young women into my bed in return for a shot at an interview like that? Not to sound like a dick, but it's not particularly difficult for me to find someone to share my bed with me if I'm in the mood. I don't need to resort to blackmailing, and even if I did, I never would! I'd rather sort myself out thanks than be putting my hands on someone who didn't really want to be there. I'm nothing like that scumbag Novak.

Thankfully when I reach the gym, already covered in a light sheen of sweat thanks to running down 30 odd flights of stairs, it's empty, not many people wanting to work out at 5 am on a Tuesday morning in Dublin I guess, I think gratefully as I make my way to the nearest treadmill and program a long run. I tie a bandanna roughly around my forehead, shove my water bottle into the holder and my earphones into my ears and hit play on my workout playlist, which currently consists of a load of songs the label and some 'friends' in the industry have sent me to listen to, more than likely hoping I'll give them a shout out on Twitter if I take shine to any of them. Cos I'm such a prolific tweeter after all... insert sarcasm here.

I feel the treadmill starting to rise beneath my feet as I reach the first incline on the program and an image of Maddie's tear-stained face swims before my eyes. I feel my heart start to beat a little faster, and not just from the exercise either. How could anyone look into those big wide eyes of hers that are the colour of the clearest tropical ocean or the bluest sky, and want to cause her pain? Shit. I shouldn't be thinking about her like this. Or anyone for that matter, I'm less than halfway through a world tour for god's sake! I need to be focusing on putting on the best shows I can each and every night, ensuring that every fan that pays their hard earned money to travel god knows how far to see me, has the best time that they possibly can. I should probably think about maybe starting to write a few songs for the next album too, maybe I can get Mitch into a writing session when we get to Australia... I've got a thousand things I should be doing pretty much every minute of every day, I am not supposed to be spending my time getting all worked up over a girl I barely know.

There was something so right though about holding her in my arms tonight though. When she finally let me comfort her and I felt her body give way and sink into mine, her long hair tickling my chin as she tucked her head beneath it and burrowed into my chest. When she pulled away from me I had the weirdest feeling. Like, like someone had taken away my guitar in the middle of a show, or turned off my microphone mid-song. I felt, incomplete somehow, even though, before I hugged her, I hadn't realised that I was missing anything. I've not felt that in such a long time, nor did I feel it previously when I've hugged her before. So what changed?

I try and focus on the song blaring in my ears, some rap track that I've not heard before, listening intently to each and every single lyric and trying to memorise as many as I can so that, by the end, I can sing along with the chorus at least, but it doesn't help rid my mind of the images that insist on popping up every two seconds, Maddie looking so very scared and small when I walked towards her in her hallway, shrinking back from me the way that she did.. I don't ever want to feel that feeling again, the thought of her being scared of me.. I can't stand it. Her cradling her injured hand against her chest after she agitated it trying to take her boots off.. the faraway stare as she recounted the events from Thursday, never looking at me once the entire time even though I asked questions and tried to get her attention, the images flash through my mind one after another as I continue to run, sweat pouring down my back. 

Thankfully we did manage to have a little bit of lightness this evening on top of all the heavy, once I got her chatting about the next leg of the tour, she seemed to relax a bit and looked genuinely excited to be heading to the other side of the world. She told me she's never travelled so far before and is a bit concerned about the long flight though, which gave me an idea... I need to have a chat with Jeff about it first really, but I'm thinking I might invite Maddie to fly over with us instead of with the rest of the crew. It would give us some more time to spend together for one, just as friends of course! But also, I think it might just be less pressure for her not to have to travel in economy with the rest of the crew for her first long-haul flight when she's so fragile. I really didn't like her ideas about leaving the tour early... regardless of my feelings for her, I know its a good opportunity that doesn't come around often, so anything I can do to convince her to stay, I'm damn well gonna do. I know the crew are heading over a day before us though, so that they can get on top of their jet lag and the time difference and get started early setting up the first show in Perth, so I need to make sure that I'm not going to be causing trouble or looking like I'm giving her special treatment by having her fly a day later with me and the rest of the band . 

I picture the look in her eyes when I was leaving and she pulled back from hugging me and resolve to talk to Jeff later today after I've made my calls about Novak. I think it is one I'll remember for a while, the darkness in them had lifted somewhat whilst I'd been with her, and she had a little more colour back in her cheeks, she gave me the most amazing smile when she said goodnight and I noticed that one of her front teeth is slightly crooked, but she didn't look any less beautiful for it.

I need to stop thinking like this...the last thing she needs right now is me making a move on her.. not to mention that would be so massively inappropriate... she works for me after all. And she's just been through hell and it took days, and me cornering Sammy and sneaking off up to her room for her to even speak to me at all. What she needs right now is a friend. Not another idiot hitting on her.

And so I resolve myself to be exactly that. Just like I told her. I'll be her friend. We'll hang out, watch movies, get to know each other. Maybe I'll see if she wants to come and work out with me next time, I'd like to try and teach her a bit more self-defence than just shoving her knee into some guys bollocks, not that it wasn't effective.. but I do wish she'd not injured herself in the process, but that will have to wait until her  
hand has healed properly I reckon.

Friends. Yep. I can do that. I think. As another image of Maddie floats before me, this time of her giving Clark an absolute death glare in the bar in Manchester last week when he stuck the microphone into her face for her to sing the female lines in that Meatloaf track he was doing at karaoke... her voice rings through my ears as though she's standing right next to me and I feel goosebumps rise on the back of my neck at the memory of her perfect pitch and sensual tone, the emotion that she exuded with every single word she sang...

Fuck it Styles. You're well and truly screwed. I think to myself and turn up the volume on the next track, put my head down, and just keep running.


	24. We're looking down on the clouds. The Sky, The world.

Harry's Perspective. 

Maddie's been so quiet whilst we've been waiting to board, after her little miss-step, which was fucking hilarious, she's just been sitting quietly on the chair between Jeff and I. I've been flicking glances over her way and trying to bring her into the conversation when I can, not wanting to leave her out, but she seems to be off in her own little world somewhere. Her bright blue eyes are downcast, staring into her lap and her eyebrows are tightly furrowed, causing two little vertical creases to appear in the soft peach skin between them. I have to clasp my hands together in my lap to stop myself from reaching over and trying to stroke them away. Not appropriate boss-employee behaviour. 

I wonder if she's thinking about Novak again, I want to reassure her, tell her about the phone calls I made yesterday and their outcomes, but now is not the time or place, she doesn't want Jeff and the band in on that discussion. Just as I make the decision to pull her to one side and try and get to the bottom of what's bothering her, a tall blonde flight attendant appears to tell us that it's time to board. 

As a general rule I try and get on flights first where possible, it just makes life easier not having to try and make my way down the crowded cabin and feel peoples eyes turn to me or have people jumping up out of their seats to ask for a selfie, blocking the aisles, so I jump up quickly and throw my carry on bag over my shoulder, extending a hand to help Maddie up, one stumble is probably enough for today. 

“You ok there Trouble? You've gone kinda erm... green” I ask her as she remains firmly planted in her seat, staring up at me with a look of utter terror on her pretty face. 

“Erm. Yes.. no. I .. err... Fuck.” she stutters back, her lips barely opening as she whispers the words and I have to hold myself back from smiling, she's adorable. 

“Come on, up ya get. “It's just a plane. You've been on planes before” I say lightly, twiddling my outstretched fingers in her direction, but she doesn't move an inch. Her eyes widen further as she replies, speaking so quickly that I have to take a second to try and work out exactly what she's saying after she's finished. 

“Yes. Yes, I have. But for like... 3 hours at the very most. And even then it was only a 2-hour flight, we were just delayed taking off cos of some drunken hen party causing a ruckus... I can't say I've ever enjoyed the experience of floating miles above the ground in what is essentially a big metal Pringles tube with triangles stuck on its sides particularly.” 

A Pringles tube? Of all the comparisons to make! Of course, just as I am about to respond, the attendant chooses to reappear, seemingly out of nowhere and try and hurry us along, she leans so close to me that I can feel her warm breath tickling my ear lobe as she speaks in a low seductive tone, I really hope she's not flying with us I think to myself, I thank her quickly but keep my eyes focussed on Maddie, trying to convey some kind of calmness to her. 

Whether it's that my look has worked, or that she's just fed up of the attendant hovering over us I don't know, but something finally stirs Maddie out of her seat. She places her small, undamaged right hand in mine and I automatically clasp my fingers tightly around it, giving her a reassuring squeeze as she rises to her feet and whispers

“I'm sorry in advance if I puke on you” causing me to laugh out loud. 

I don't let go of her hand as I escort her on to the plane, and as we pass Jeff, who is sitting in the seats directly in front of ours, he glances at our clasped digits before shooting me a knowing look and a cheeky smile. 

“Nerves” I mutter to him as I stow my bag away in the overhead bin and take my seat. 

As the plane around us begins to fill, I see the odd pair of eyes flicker over to me and a few people whispering to one and other and I turn my body slightly so that my back is to the cabin, trying to avoid making eye contact with anyone. It's not that I don't love my fans, I do, with every fibre of my being, people from where I grew up rarely, if ever, get to experience the kinds of things that I do, live the kind of life that I live, and I will forever be grateful to every single person who's ever bought a CD or come along to any of my shows, solo or with the boys, but the start of a 17 hour flight at 4 am is not the time to be taking selfies. 

I watch Maddie closely as she tightens her seat belt to a point that has got to be seriously uncomfortable and examines the first class seats we are going to call home for this flight, lifting the armrests to reveal the multitude of buttons, USB ports and phone chargers stored there, before lifting her hand to the flat screen TV in the back of Jeff's chair and tapping at it with one long pink nail. I can't control the chuckle that bubbles up in my throat at her disappointed little 'hmph' sound when nothing happens. 

“They won't engage until we're in the air I'm afraid, safety thing. So we're not all sat here watching Netflix whilst they're doing the safety announcements.” I tell her. She looks over at me suddenly as if completely surprised to see me and blinks a couple of times before responding, her long eyelashes fluttering against her flushed cheeks. 

“Well that was exactly what I was hoping to do.. the last thing I need right now is to be reminded of all the things that I will forget when we start plummeting to our deaths” she deadpans

“Ha! Don't worry, I'm a strong swimmer, if we go down, I'll make sure to save you” 

“You gonna pop me up on a door that could easily hold us both but chivalrously decline to join me then freeze to death a-la-Leonardo-Dicaprio?” she asks, and I am glad to see a small smile on her pink lips. Distraction, that's what she needs. I can be distracting.. granted not in the ways I might want to be given that we're on a crowded plane and that I haven't so much as told her I like her, but still... 

“Yep. I'll never let go Trouble” I say paraphrasing the line from the movie “Seriously though, you were much more likely to crash in the car ride to Heathrow than you are to be involved in a plane crash” 

“Very reassuring, remind me not to accept a lift from one of your drivers again if that's the amount of faith you put in them” 

As the flight attendants begin their safety announcements, I try and pay attention, but seriously, I've probably been on more planes than they have especially given that the guy standing at the front demonstrating how to inflate the life jacket looks like he only finished school a few months ago, so I can't help but zone out a little, I take the opportunity to put my phone on aeroplane mode and see Maddie do the same, scrambling around in her handbag to locate it for most of the demo. Seriously, why do women carry so much in their bags? They never seem to be able to find what they're looking for without ten minutes of searching, and what can they possibly need to carry all that stuff around with them all time for anyway? 

I watch, fascinated, as Maddie unloads piles of make-up, her purse, passport, earphones, tissues, sweets... a pen.. notepad, and a handful of tampons into her lap before finally locating her phone in the pocket that I am practically positive she checked first. Women. 

No sooner has she managed to stow everything back in her bag and place it under her seat than the engines rumble to life beneath us and the plane starts to taxi, causing Maddie to dig her nails deeply into the armrests on either side of her, her thin shoulder pushing against mine, a delicious shudder runs through me at her close proximity, but she doesn't even seem to notice. 

“Here” I say placing my hand palm upwards next to hers “Better my hand than the armrests, I don't really fancy having to pay out to have them reupholstered” I joke, but it seems someone has left their sense of humour back at the terminal as the look Maddie flashes me looks strong enough to kill. Gee, this is going to be a fun flight. 

The first jerk of the plane sends her small hand crashing down into my own though and I try and keep the pain from my face as her fingers clamp uncomfortably around mine. 

“Just relax Trouble. Deep breaths. Why don't we talk about something? Take your mind off of it? What's your favourite colour?” I ask her randomly

“What?” She hisses, through gritted teeth. 

“Your favourite colour? What is it?” I ask again, turning my head to face her and looking deep into her eyes “Just focus on me” 

“Green,” She says instantly, without seeming to think about it for a second. 

“Really? Not pink?” I ask turning out joined hands so that her bright nails are visible. 

“Erm, well yes actually, generally it's pink. But right now... I'm going to stick with green” She says again, staring up into my eyes and I don't even try and hide the smile that stretches almost uncomfortably across my face. 

 

Maddie's perspective. 

Why on earth did I say that? I don't even like green, not really. But right now, at this moment, staring up into Harry's sparkling eyes, I honestly cannot think of a prettier, more appealing colour and the word tumbles out of my mouth before I have the chance to think about it. 

“I'm not sure that asking me what my favourite colour is is going to be distracting enough Harry,” I say through gritted teeth as the plane begins to speed up

“Right, ok, yeah that was crap sorry. First thing that popped into my head. Erm, If you could perform onstage with any one person, living or dead, who would it be and why?” He asks me as the plane begins to rise and I feel myself being pushed back into my seat. I tighten my grip on his hand just a little as I contemplate my answer. 

“Freddie Mercury I think. I mean, there's a million singers out there that I'd love to perform with, but Freddie was just.. the way he behaved in front of a crowd the charisma

he had and the showmanship.. all whilst managing to hit every single note of every single song... I'd have loved to have seen him perform live, let alone get the opportunity to perform with him. Of course, if I were to be on the same stage as someone like that, I'd instantly forget every single lyric and probably lose the ability to speak entirely let alone sing. Or, more likely knowing me, trip over a wire, pull down half the stage and set the entire place on fire” I blurt out quickly, trying desperately not to focus on the awkward angle I am being forced into or the fact that there really is no turning back now. No matter how much of a tantrum I throw, this plane isn't stopping until it touches down in Australia. Shit shit shit. 

I feel my face begin to heat up and sweat pools in the tiny air pocket between my palm and Harry's, I go to loosen my grip, embarrassed, but Harry reaches over with his other hand and places it reassuringly over the top of our entwined ones, pinning me in place. 

“Just look at me, Maddie. I promise it'll all be ok.” He says slowly in his low deep voice, his penetrating green eyes staring straight down into my soul. I do as he says and keep my eyes fixed firmly on his as he draws little patterns on the back of my hand. “I'm not gonna pretend that it didn't hurt just a bit that your answer wasn't me, my narcissistic side is well known after all, but I suppose if you had to pick someone else, Freddie s a good choice. What's your favourite song of his?” 

“The Show Must Go On” I answer quickly 

“Empty spaces, what are we living for? Abandoned places, I guess we know the score. On and on, does anybody know what we are looking for?” Harry begins to sing, leaning forwards slightly so that our foreheads are practically touching and singing so softly that I am sure that even Jeff, sat just feet away can't hear him. “Sing with me Trouble” He instructs me 

“Another hero, another mindless crime, Behind the curtain, in the pantomime, Hold the line, doesn't anybody want to take it any more?” I join in with him, trying to keep my voice low to match his. 

By the time we reach the end of the song, the plane has levelled out and I can see the tops of the white fluffy clouds floating along idly below us, the sun beginning to rise somewhere far off in the distance. 

“See, that wasn't so bad was it?” Harry's voice interrupts my thoughts, pulling my gaze away from the window I shoot him a grateful smile. 

“Thank you, I'm sorry I'm being such a baby about this” 

“Anytime Trouble, anytime.” 

Several hours later, I am awoken suddenly by a huge jerking motion as we hit a pocket of turbulence and the first thing I see is the seatbelt lighting flashing towards the front of the plane. Oh, fuck! I look around to Harry for reassurance but to my dismay, his seat is empty. 

“Harry?” I call, a little too loudly in the small quiet cabin, the fear evident in my voice.

“He's just in the bathroom love” Glenne's voice calls back from the seat in front of me, turning as much as she is able in her chair and flashing me a kind smile. “You ok?” 

“Yeah.. just... I'm not a very good flyer” I admit sheepishly as the plane jolts again, making the bottle of water in my drinks holder vibrate noisily

“Aww you poor thing, just try and take a couple of deep breaths, we'll be through this in no time at all I'm sure” she tries to reassure me, but as nice as she seems, the words don't elicit the same response as they would if Harry were the one saying them. God, I really have got to get over this pathetic little crush I seem to be developing for him, it's quite sad really, lowly little crew dogsbody falling for the star of the show because he was kind to her after a shitty experience, it's so cliché I almost pity myself. 

“Hey, you're awake!” Harry says happily as he reappears next to me, stumbling slightly as he takes his seat on the rocking plane

“The turbulence woke me” I admit and I know my fear must show on my face as within seconds, Harry has his seatbelt fastened and has placed his hand, palm upwards, on the armrest between us. Gratefully I slide my fingers into his, feeling the cold metal of his rings against my too warm skin and he gives me a small squeeze. 

“Thank you” 

“How about we watch a movie?” He asks and reaches out to start tapping on the screen in front of him, I can't help but let out a small giggle when the first one that pops up is one he is very familiar with. 

“Why do I feel like I am about to regret that suggestion?” He asks me with a wink

“Hehe, please? I've never got to watch a movie with one of the stars actually sitting next to me before” I say giving him my best-wounded puppy dog expression

“Ahh shit, don't look at me like that! How am I supposed to say no to you now?” He asks, pouting back at me

“Pleassssse Harry. I think it'll really distract me..” I say playfully, but I can see from the look in his eyes that I've already won this battle. I think he'd do pretty much anything I asked right now just to keep me quiet and get us through this flight. Hmmm, now there's a thought... Maybe we could ask the attendant to bring us one of those big blankets she's been handing out, and maybe instead of holding my hand, Harry could place his long, slim fingers somewhere else... 

“Alright, fine. But if I start having flashbacks of days spent swimming around in the freezing cold sea in France, you might have to start comforting me for a change.” Harry says pulling me out of my daydreams. I feel my face flush in embarrassment at the thoughts I was having, dammit I really have got to stop this! There's no possible way he could ever feel the same, he's Harry Styles for fuck's sake, women throw themselves at him every hour of every day. Sure he's been super nice to me, but that's all he's being, nice. It's important that I don't mistake that kindness for anything more. 

I shake my head twice to clear it and am relieved when the seatbelt light pings off, just as the movie starts and Harry hands me a set of headphones. Once I have placed them in my ears, I turn back to face the screens in front of us and rest my hands in my lap, but to my surprise, given that the turbulence has now ceased and there's no real need for him to, Harry reaches over and gently lifts my hand from my lap, entwining his fingers around mine once again as we settle down to watch Dunkirk.


	25. Perth, Australia

Maddie's perspective

I can't decide if it was an act of god, or if maybe Harry is lucky charm or something, but by some miracle, we all managed to land safely in Perth AND to top it all off, I didn't even puke on him! Granted that was more by luck than judgement as the one time I did get sick I was able to excuse myself to bathroom in good time, but still, I'll take it.

As much as I have officially decided that I really do not enjoy flying long haul, I have to admit that spending 17 and a half hours, or at least most of, sat next to one of the worlds most eligible bachelors was really rather nice. He was so kind and considerate the whole time, constantly reassuring me that everything was ok, distracting me and cracking jokes, and he barely let go of my hand. I even awoke at one point from a rather long nap to find him sleeping soundly beside me, little puffs of air expelling from his pursed lips each time he exhaled, but even then, his long slender fingers were entangled with mine, his arm stretching across the space between us and into my lap where my hand rested as though it had sort me out in his subconscious, or at least that's what I am choosing to believe, rather than the much more likely scenario that I was whimpering pathetically in my sleep and it was his attempt to shut me up so he could nap too. 

Other than the unexpected hand holding and the rather nice dinner we were served shortly before landing, which was a pleasant surprise after the inedible sandwiches we'd been given at lunch, the best part of the trip was watching Dunkirk with Harry. 

I had only seen it once before, in the cinema with my Dad and Michael when it was first released, and as much as I enjoyed it, I can't say I'd even realised that Harry was in it until Sammy mentioned it to me the other day. So getting to watch it with him was a real experience, he was hilariously shy at times, turning away from the screen and fiddling with his phone, especially when he dropped the only F bomb in the movie, which I found especially funny given that I rarely go more than a sentence or two in his company without swearing about something. He occasionally bought up little anecdotes from their days filming in France too, telling me how he'd spent at least half his time there swimming, only to have just three shots of him doing so actually end up in the finished movie, one of which was just of the back of his head. I got the impression that it was an experience he'd really enjoyed though, I could tell he had mostly fond memories of his time in France from the way he spoke about it despite his shyness at times, which did nothing but endear me to him more when I'd just resolved to stop crushing on him, bloody man.

When we finally landed in Perth, I had hurried straight off to find Sammy and grab the key to our room so that I could dump my stuff and go help the rest of the crew set up for the show, I felt guilty enough for getting the first class travel experience and turning up a day later than everyone else as it was, not to mention already being on light duties because of my hand, so I was desperate to pull my weight. But now, sat back in our room, which by the way, is considerably nicer than the one we had in Dublin, Australia 1 – Ireland 0, my hand is absolutely killing me so I am sure I have overdone it. Thankfully we got all of the set up done last night, so I don't actually have to head to the arena until after the show finishes tonight for take down and can relax a bit. Which is just as well really as my body clock is entirely screwed and I am so very tired that I'm pretty sure I'd be good for nothing about now.

“Well well well, look who finally decided to stop by” I say sarcastically to Sammy as she creeps into the hotel room at 9am. I have to stifle a giggle at the sight of her, in last nights clothes, hair sticking up in every direction known to man and shoes clasped tightly in one hand, as she tip toes into the room, clearly hoping I'll be asleep.

“Fuck it. I should have known you'd be up. Do you ever sleep?” She asks and throws her shoes on to the floor with a loud bang.

“Hows Freddie?” I ask her, flashing a cheeky smile

“Fuck you” Is the only response I get as she crashes face first down on to her bed next to me.

“It looks as though you've had enough fucking for one night” I continue to tease her and she rolls over onto her back with a loud sigh, throwing her arm over her eyes exasperated.

“Why do I keep going back? I mean.. sure the sex is great and everything but Jesus! We're in the land down under, I'm meant to be off shagging random dirty blonde surfers with outstanding six packs I've picked up at the beach who've got seaweed stuck in their hair. Not shacked up with some.. some... boring old bloke from South London!!” She complains

“Aww don't be mean, it's not Freddies fault he wasn't born somewhere more exotic than Croydon” I reply

“I'm young and on tour for fucks sake! I should be out living it up. I had a bucket list ya know, of countries I want to experience the local... cuisine at if you get what I mean”

“Sammy... Everyone always gets what you mean, you're about as subtle as a brick to the face” I giggle “Well you and Freddie aren't exclusive right? So what's to stop you going off and having some fun whilst we're here?”

“God no we aren't! But, I don't want to hurt him either” she admits with another sigh.

“Someone's got it bad” I tease her again, causing her to fling her arm out and bash me in the face with her not very fluffy pillow. “Ow”

“Can we talk about something else please? Or better yet, not talk at all? My body's still on Dublin time and I'm fucking exhausted”

“I know, me too. Do you ever get used to all this travelling about?”

“This is my first time out of Europe too Mads, I'll let you know if I figure out the secret any time soon though. How about, tomorrow night when we still can't sleep, we go out and hit the town? Just you and me, girls only?”

“Shouldn't we at least invite Clarke?” I counter

“No. He's a big boy, he'll be fine on his own for one night, I need some girl time, and, after everything with.. well you know, in London, I'm positive that you could use a man free night too” Sammy says, giving me a knowing look and it's immediately clear that she's referring to Novak. I've got to admit the thought of a night out filled with loud music and plenty of distractions sounds wonderful to me.

“Fuck it, why not. We'll go see what this insanely hot country has to offer shall we! I thought it was meant to be autumn here? Why is it so damn hot?” I ask her fanning myself with a nearby magazine, it's got to be over 20 degrees already and its only just past 9am.

“Everything's upside down and inside out here. That's why we sent all our criminals over, for punishment. Now will you shush up and go to sleep” Sammy instructs me, rolling over with her back to me and pulling the covers right up over her head to block out the morning sunshine that is peaking around the edges of the curtains and illuminating the small room in an orange glow. Within minutes she is snoring loudly, sod all chance of that now! I think to myself and push my earphones deep into my ears to try and block out some of the noise.

It's nearly 3am by the time I finally get through take down that night after Harry's first Australia show but as I slept most of the day away once I finally managed to block out Sammy's snores, I am annoyingly wide awake and find myself wandering into the hotel bar aimlessly to grab a quick drink before I head upstairs, hoping it might help to put me to sleep. I order a vodka and cranberry, not wanting anything caffeinated at this time of night, and head over to a comfortable looking booth, pulling out my phone to text Sammy to see if she wants to join me. To my surprise though, there is a message flashing on the screen from Harry.

“If you're not too tired after take down, come up to the penthouse and keep me company. I'll be awake, jet lags a bitch! H xx”

Hmm, I guess you don't just get used to flitting about all over the planet after all. God knows Harry's got more experience than most people and if he's still suffering with jet lag, the rest of us have no chance at all I think to myself as I stir my straw idly in my drink, trying to decide whether or not to take him up on his offer. I decide I'll send a quick text to ensure that he really is still awake first.

“You sure? I've only just finished and I don't want to keep you up? X”

The response comes back almost instantly

“I'm SO bored Trouble! Save me from myself. H xx”

When I reach the door to the penthouse I am surprised to see that there aren't any security hanging around like there usually are, but I guess even they have to sleep sometime, and as Harry is safely tucked away in his room, they probably figure there isn't too much trouble he can get up to really... haha yeah right! If the walls of his past hotel rooms could talk.. well I think they'd be able to make a fortune selling their stories to the papers, I bet Harry has managed to get himself into more compromising positions when he's supposedly safely behind the closed doors of his hotel suites than he has anywhere else. 

For just a minute as I walk down the corridor to the large oak panelled doors, I let my mind wander a little and imagine what it would be like to be one of those girls, or boys, who knows what his preference is after all, or if he has one at all, that are invited to THE Harry Styles' hotel room after hours for a more interesting reason than just because he is bored..

I picture myself lying flat on my back on crisp white linen sheets, fluffy pillows propping up my head so that I have the perfect view of Harry, standing stark naked at the food of the bed, pressing a finger to his plump lips as he surveys my body, his fiery green gaze running its way over my breasts.. across my stomach... down to my most intimate area, which is already wet and waiting for him... unable to hold himself back any more and pouncing on top of me, grabbing my wrists in his strong hands and pinning me to the bed as his lips press down against my own, his tongue sliding between them...

Well shit. They clearly need to make the corridors in these places longer.. I was just getting to the good part! I think as I find myself standing smack bang in front of the doors to Harry's room. I am tempted to wait a few more minutes before knocking to let my fantasy reach a more interesting conclusion.. but I really should get a grip. I don't need to be walking into his room any more hot and bothered than I already am. So I try and shake off the images floating deliciously before my eyes, and knock three times on the door.


	26. If you like causing trouble up in hotel rooms, Perth, Australia.

“Did you get lost?” Harry greets me with a pout as he swings open the door to reveal himself, he's wearing loose black shorts and no shirt... a towel slung loosely around his shoulders and his hair dripping wet.. well damn so much for not getting more hot and bothered. 

It takes me a second or two to compose myself, as my fantasies and reality merge together and I am completely confused momentarily until Harry speaks again

“Are you gonna stand there all night? You're letting all the heat out” he asks cheekily, and I see a smirk forming at the corners of his mouth.

“Well if you'd get out the way, maybe I could get past. And as if you've got the heating on, this countries a bloody sauna, although that would explain your lack of shirt.” I fling back sarcastically, pushing my way past him into his spacious suite, seriously, what does one person need so much room for in a hotel any ways?

“Charming as always.” Harry says, leaning forwards to give me a brief hug. “You smell of vodka”

“That's impressive, considering Vodka doesn't smell” I reply backing away from him slightly and wondering if I've got any chewing gum hanging out somewhere in the depths of my handbag, I'm still sporting the same over sized one that I carried on the plane, not having bothered to switch everything back over into my useless little clutch yet and not sure if I will to be honest, and I am sure there are plenty of things hidden deep in the bottom of it that I've completely forgotten about. I throw it down on the sofa next to me and start to rummage through, which also gives me a very good excuse to keep my head down and not accidentally stare at Harry's exposed torso again. So many tattoos.. birds and leaves and then a huge butterfly smack bang in the middle of his stomach, not to mention the countless initials and names that seem to be sprinkled over him, it would take me forever to memorise all those I think to myself as I finally locate what feels like a pack of gum in my bag and pull it out triumphantly, only to find that it's just an old empty sweet box, dammit.

“Of course it smells! All alcohol does. I take it you stopped off at the bar on your way here? Dutch courage?” he asks, flashing me another smirk

“I was already in the bar when I saw your text actually. Don't flatter yourself” I tease him

“I'm pretty sure you're the one who's struggling to even look at me without going red right now” Harry counters, and as much as I am enjoying this easy banter betweens us, I don't like that he seems to be winning this game, and I certainly don't want him thinking that I am hot for him, that would be beyond mortifying.

“Well maybe if you weren't walking about half naked, I wouldn't feel the need to avert my eyes!” I scold him playfully, pulling the towel from around his neck and throwing it back at his chest where it covers him more fully for the blink of an eye before falling to the floor.

“Ok ok, sorry! I didn't realise you were quite so delicate, I'll go find a shirt” he says and strides off into the bedroom, leaving the wet towel in the middle of the floor. Men! I take a moment to pick it up and hang it over a nearby railing to dry before settling myself down on the sofa and taking in the huge room, the plush cream three seater I have chosen to sit on alone wouldn't fit in the tiny room that Sammy and I have about 20 floors below this one, let alone anything else. There's a huge television hanging above the fireplace on one wall, and multitudes of paintings and several doors interrupting the others, one door is ajar and I can see through into a massive bathroom which is covered in tiles so white that it almost hurts my eyes to look at them being reflected back at me by the harsh florescent lighting in there. I hop up off the sofa and go to turn the light off before it can do permanent damage to my retina's and return just as Harry reappears in the living room.

“Fancy a game?” He asks, picking up what looks to be an Xbox remote and waving it in my direction. Hmm this could be a fun way to get my own back on him, I think to myself. 

“Erm, sure, what do you want to play?” I ask, feigning confusion when he places a second controller in my hand.

“Call of Duty?” He asks and I feel a surge of excitement run through my veins, but I do my best to keep it well hidden, not wanting to give my secret away.

“Ok, why not” I agree and he flicks on the console. 

“How the fuck are you doing that?? Are you some kind of secret COD champion?” Harry exclaims loudly as I come top in our online team death match for the third time in a row, my kill count almost twice as high as Harry's.

“Haha!! No! But you try growing up in a household with an older brother who's friends were over constantly whilst you were growing up and NOT get good at computer games!” I giggle at his astonished expression

“Ahh I should have known. I bet you kicked all their arses too didn't you? It's not nice you know, you'll damage our fragile male egos.” he replies

“Not quite all no, I could never beat Michael, and Clark's pretty good too, but I can hold my own” I say smuggly, laying back on the sofa and putting my controller down. “Have you had enough of being beaten by a girl for one evening?” I ask Harry, placing my hands behind my head and stretching out across the sofa, realising I am actually starting to get tired, it's nearly 5 am.

“Hmph” Harry pouts, flopping back against the sofa cushions next to me and nudging against my arm in the process. “Yeah I'm done for tonight. It's getting late, and there was something I wanted to talk to you about”

“Oh? So you didn't invite me up here just to keep you occupied then?” I ask him, suppressing a large yawn.

“No, well yes I wanted your company of course, but, well, I spoke to my friend Julie today, the lady who works in ...”

“The same office as Novak. I remember” I finish his sentence for him.

“I'm really sorry Maddie, but, it seems the company aren't going to take any action against him for his behaviour towards you. They said that since there were no witnesses other than yourself and Novak.. and since he is denying that he said or did anything inappropriate at all.. there isn't really much that they can do” Harry's words are like a punch in the stomach, bile rises in my throat and I feel as though the wind has been knocked out of me but my astonishment soon turns to anger. I jump quickly out of the chair just as Harry raises a hand and goes to put it on my leg to comfort me.

“I fucking told you that would happen! Didn't I?! Didn't I say no one would believe me? Of course they're going to fucking side with him. I suppose they think I did this to myself for no reason at all huh?” I shout waving my injured hand in Harry's general direction as I pace across the thickly carpeted hotel suite. “I knew I shouldn't have let you make those phone calls, I knew no one would care! That's exactly why I didn't report it in the first place! And now his colleagues, his bosses, Christ, even this Julie person of yours are all going to be thinking that I am some stupid little liar making up stories to get Harry Styles to pity her!”

“No! No! Not at all!! Julie said she's not surprised at all that he would do something like that! She was completely on your side Maddie I swear! It's just, she's not Novak's superior, there's nothing she can do! I spoke with several friends of mine who have connections to him, and it seems he's somewhat known for being a bit of a sleaze, but none of them had heard of him actually going as far.. of doing what he... Shit Maddie I'm so sorry.” Harry says and although I can hear the sincerity in his voice and I am sure that he is sorry... right now, jet lagged at 5am after having been lulled into some weird sense of security sitting here playing video games with him for two hours, I just feel blind-sided and hurt and angry. He's the only person here for me to take it out on, and rightly or wrongly, that's exactly what I do.

“You should have just fucking listened to me Harry. Instead of insisting that you knew better! Women like me NEVER get believed when something like this happens! Do you think I don't have friends who've been in similar situations before? Friends of friends who've had to leave their jobs, move house, fuck even move countries sometimes! All because of some dickhead man who thought he had some kind of god given right to put his hands on her? I've seen people try and fight back before and it rarely ever works! You should have just left it alone!! Now, Novak will go around telling people that I've made up this whole story about him and shooting his mouth off to try and ensure they don't hear it from you first and take your side, and before long everyone will think I am just some little liar trying to sleep her way to the top!”

“Maddie, calm down, I think you're overacting a bit, there's no reason why Novak would discuss this with anyone, he won't want the story getting out even if he is denying it, because no doubt some people would believe you! Just like Julie does, just like I do” Harry says, coming to stand in front of me and placing his strong hands on my shoulders, I feel my bare feet sink further down into the soft carpet with the added weight as a single tear falls from my eye, I brush it away frantically and gaze up at Harry.

“I need to leave now. Thank you for the game” I say in a quiet voice, backing out from under his hands and grabbing up my handbag and my shoes, ignoring the searing pain that ignites in my broken hand as I close my fingers around the straps of my bag and throw it over my shoulder.

“Maddie wait! Please, just talk to me!” Harry calls, but I'm already back at the oak panelled doors. I swing one open and start to jog down the hallway, picking up speed as I reach the elevator, which pings open at exactly the moment I reach it, I tumble inside and keep my eyes lowered as I hit the button for my floor, glancing up just as the doors close in time to see Harry's bewildered expression peering out at me, even from this distance I can see the pain in his dulled green eyes, and I crumple to the floor of the lift allow my tears to fall.

 

Harry's perspective

Why didn't I chase after her? I think to myself dumbly as I finally close my hotel room door and lean heavily back against the polished wood, banging the edge of my fist into it in frustration as I slide down to the floor.

Shit! I've completely screwed this up! I thought that relaxing with Maddie for a while before giving her the news about Novak would be the best way, that maybe if I told her when she was in a good mood, it would be a little easier for her to hear, I had hoped it would soften the blow a bit at least, but it seems, as usual, I totally misread the situation and now she thinks that I'm just an uncaring arsehole who was more concerned about playing computer games than with what happened to her.

I put my head in my hands and drag my fingers through my tangled hair as I wonder what I should do now. I could go and try and find her... but I've got no idea what room she's in, and it's 5:30 am, it's not like I can go and wake up Jamie, the guy who allocates the rooms, to find out. There's no point in trying to call her, I already know from experience that she won't answer if I do.

Heaving my tired body off the floor, I make my way into the bedroom and strip off the shorts and T-shirt I have been wearing, it's too hot to sleep in clothes. As I pull the shirt off, a flash of Maddie's face pops into my head, her cheeks red, eyes downcast, as she looked absolutely everywhere she could other than at my bare chest when she arrived earlier tonight. I had thought, for just a minute, that maybe.. just maybe, I'd seen a spark of desire in her flushed cheeks, that she was averting her eyes because seeing me like that was making her finally look at me the same way that I look at her. But after my momentous fuck up... now I'm not sure if she'll ever bloody speak to me again. Nice one Styles.

Resolving that the best course of action right now is to get some sleep and try and talk to her tomorrow when we've both had some rest, I punch my pillow into a more comfortable shape and close my eyes, letting the image of her laughing at her triumph in the game fill my mind as I try and fall asleep.


	27. Sunshine & Margaritas. Perth, Australia.

Harry's perspective

Why didn't I chase after her? I think to myself dumbly as I finally close my hotel room door and lean heavily back against the polished wood, banging the edge of my fist into it in frustration as I slide down to the floor.

Shit! I've completely screwed this up! I thought that relaxing with Maddie for a while before giving her the news about Novak would be the best way, that maybe if I told her when she was in a good mood, it would be a little easier for her to hear, I had hoped it would soften the blow a bit at least, but it seems, as usual, I totally misread the situation and now she thinks that I'm just an uncaring arsehole who was more concerned about playing computer games than with what happened to her.

I put my head in my hands and drag my fingers through my tangled hair as I wonder what I should do now. I could go and try and find her... but I've got no idea what room she's in, and it's 5:30 am, it's not like I can go and wake up Jamie, the guy who allocates the rooms, to find out. There's no point in trying to call her, I already know from experience that she won't answer if I do.

Heaving my tired body off the floor, I make my way into the bedroom and strip off the shorts and T-shirt I have been wearing, it's too hot to sleep in clothes. As I pull the shirt off, a flash of Maddie's face pops into my head, her cheeks red, eyes downcast, as she looked absolutely everywhere she could other than at my bare chest when she arrived earlier tonight. I had thought, for just a minute, that maybe.. just maybe, I'd seen a spark of desire in her flushed cheeks, that she was averting her eyes because seeing me like that was making her finally look at me the same way that I look at her. But after my momentous fuck up... now I'm not sure if she'll ever bloody speak to me again. Nice one Styles.

Resolving that the best course of action right now is to get some sleep and try and talk to her tomorrow when we've both had some rest, I punch my pillow into a more comfortable shape and close my eyes, letting the image of her laughing at her triumph in the game fill my mind as I try and fall asleep.

Maddie's perspective.

It's gone midday by the time I wake up the next morning... afternoon... whatever, the sun is shining painfully through the thin curtains in my room, making me sweat under the coarse hotel blankets. I throw them off unhappily and glance around the room for Sammy, but there's no sign of her, she was here when I stumbled back in at the crack of dawn this morning, snoring away, but I guess she must have headed out, probably in search of food.

I check my phone out of habit before hopping in the shower, hoping to see a message from Harry, but disappointingly, there are no notifications on my screen. He's probably pissed off with me after my tantrum last night and avoiding me. I can't really say that I blame him. 

As the hot water runs over my aching limbs I digest our conversation and realise that I really shouldn't have yelled at him the way that I did. He didn't deserve that, it's not his fault that men like Novak are permitted to get away with behaving like animals and treating women like their property, I shouldn't have taken my anger out on him. Idiot. I scold myself as I pitifully attempt to wash my hair with my one good hand, he's done nothing but be nice to me since the day I met him, and that's how I choose to repay him? I wouldn't blame him if he decided I just am not worth the effort. 

I stay in the shower until the water runs cold and I start to shiver, prolonging the moment when I'll have to face the world for as long as possible, then quickly throw on a pair of shorts and a light peach coloured vest top and decide to take myself off to find something to eat. I can't actually remember the last time I had a proper meal, I realise as I close the hotel room door behind me and head out into the Australian sunshine.

I wander around aimlessly for half an hour or so, until I finally reach the coast, miles of pure white sand reflect the blazing sunlight all around me as the turquoise waves lap at the shore, there are a few families scattered around, building sandcastles and throwing frisbees back and forth to one and other, smiling happily, enjoying their time at the beach, and a wave of homesickness crashes over me unexpectedly as I recall similar days spent on much less exotic beaches on the south coast of England with my own family.

Wandering past a cafe, I buy myself a burger and chips and find a secluded piece of sand far away from the families to sit and eat my meal. I decide to send a few quick texts to my family back home, I wish I could call Michael and have a proper conversation with him, it seems like it's been forever since we had a real chat, but the time difference makes that impractical, it's something like 2am back home in London so a text will have to do. Not expecting a reply, I got to put my phone away, but I hesitate, realising that I have another message I need to send, to the person I probably should have contacted first really.

“I'm sorry. I didn't mean to take my anger out on you. I know you were just trying to help xx”

I hit the send button and watch as the little green bar confirms that my message to Harry has been sent, it's a shitty apology I know, not at all good enough to make up for my behaviour last night, but hopefully it's a start at least.

I lay back on the hot sand, wishing I'd thought to steal one of the towels from the hotel, and close my eyes, letting the warmth from the afternoon sun seep deep into my skin and the first image that pops unbidden into my head is of him, as it always seems to be these days. I picture Harry's shocked expression as we played call of duty last night, the hurt puppy dog look in his eyes as I sniped him from high on a hillside above a partially destroyed building that he thought he was safe in, and I feel a smile spread over my lips at the memory. Even when he's pouting he's adorable.

A shrill ringing interrupts my day dreams and I sit bolt upright, trying to extricate my phone from my back pocket before it goes to voice mail, my heart pumping frantically against my rib cage in anticipation.. please be Harry, please be Harry, I murmur to myself. But of course, after blowing up my phone constantly last week when I didn't want to speak to him, now that I want it to be him, it's not. I frown as I hit the answer button and lift the phone to my ear.

“Where are you??” Sammy's voice demands through the speaker without preamble.

“Good afternoon to you too” I say sarcastically “On the beach by the hotel, why?”

“I'm boreeed! I thought we could start our night out a little earlier than planned? Why don't you head back here and we can get ready?” she suggests

“Ok sure, why not. I'll be back in half an hour or so” I say before ending the call. My disappointment fading quickly, I find myself much more enthusiastic than I have been in days, I hop up and brush the sand from my clothes and start to head back in the direction of the hotel. A night out to let my hair down is exactly what I need right now I think to myself, and quicken my steps, wanting to start enjoying myself as soon as possible.

 

“Two margarita's and two shots of that... that.. greenishy looking stuff there please Mr barkeep!” I shout loudly to the bemused looking man behind the bar, well it's loud! Of course I have to shout.. I reason to myself as he backs away from me hastily to go prepare the cocktails flashing me an unhappy grimace.

“Aww no! I prefer the blue stuff!” Sammy moans from the high bar stool next to me

“Nope. Green is better than blue. Trust me” I say wisely, tottering slightly on my own chair as I turn to face her.

“You've really got it bad don't cha! Maddie and Harry sitting in a tree, K.I.S.S.I.N.G” she sings back to me at the top of her lungs. “Hey! We need to give you one of those funny names!”

“I already have a name... Matilda is my name, you know this.” I inform her, utterly confused by her statement

“No! You know, like... when you smoosh together the names of too people in a relationship to make one whole other new name! You could be... Haddie!” She says triumphantly clearly very proud of herself, but I am not convinced.

“That sounds like a villain from a Disney movie” I complain, wrinkling my nose as the bar man returns, his eyes are blue and boring like mine, not the bright sparkling green of Harry's, I am about to tell him this when he whips the cash from my outstretched fingers and runs away again. Rude.

“Marry!! Oh my god that's bloody genius that is! You can be Marry!” Sammy says tapping me frantically on the shoulder to get my attention and we both collapse into a fit of giggles.

“Nope! No names needed, Harry is just my friend and my boss... he doesn't look like that way at me” I say sadly, muddling my words slightly in my inebriated state, my bottom lip protruding in a pout

“Well that's just cos he's a twit! You my friend are wonderful. And I bet ANY man in here would be glad to take a tumble with you. Hang on... I'll find one!” Sammy slurs, and begins to climb to her feet, balancing precariously on the thin metal foot rest of her chair, she calls across the crowded room “Who here would like to take a tumble with my wonderful friend?”

“Ssssh!” I beg her, grabbing hold of her arm and yanking her back down, getting half her drink thrown over my bare legs in the process. Eww. “I don't want a tumble! I want to dance!” I exclaim as the DJ starts to play a cheesy old 80's song that I can't quite place right now. I hoist myself to my feet using Sammy's arm as leverage, and sway slightly before regaining my balance.

“Wait! Shots!” Sammy calls after me as I start to walk back to the dance floor clutching my cocktail

“Harry shots!” I shout back to her and grab my glass from the bar, downing it in one, the sour apple flavoured liquid burns my throat as I swallow it. “Urgh I hope he tastes better than that” I giggle as Sammy as I make our way to the dance floor.

 

I'm not entirely sure how long we dance for, time seems to move strangely on this side of the world, or maybe that's the the copious amounts of alcohol that Sammy and I have consumed this evening, but I do know that I am having a bloody wonderful time. I haven't thought about... nope! Not going to think about that arsehole, not tonight. This is my night, and I've damn well earned it he has no place here. 

As I sway my hips to the latest cheesy track, singing along at the top of my little lungs, I notice a vaguely familiar outline moving slowly towards us from the other side of the dance floor, the lights bouncing off the extraordinary amount of gel in his spiky hair, I smile as he raises a finger to his lips, silently begging me not to let Sammy, who has her back to him, know that he is there.

Freddie makes his way quietly up behind her and begins to sway in time to the music, I watch, entranced, as he places his hands on her hips and pulls her body back close to his, his head lowering to whisper into her ear as they move perfectly in time to the music, and I can't help the pang of jealousy I feel. I wish I had someone in my life who would come and find me on a night out and dance with me that way.

I wonder for a moment if Sammy will be upset with Freddie for turning up and interrupting what was supposed to be our girls night, but the moment he speaks and she realises who's embrace she is tangled in, her face lights up in pure joy. She spins awkwardly in the tight space between them and throws her arms around his neck, pressing her bright red lips firmly against his. As his arms encircle her, he lowers one hand and pushes it firmly against the small of her back.. the last traces of air between their bodies disappearing as he pulls her closer to him.

Well shit. So much for girls night. Deciding that standing open mouthed staring at your mate snogging her not-quite-boyfriend in the middle of a busy nightclub is probably not really appropriate, especially when you've not had sex in bloody forever and are getting a little too excited about the whole situation, I make my way back over to the bar and perch myself again on one of the high stools we vacated earlier. I watch as the same bar man sighs heavily before making his way over to me.

“Another Margarita please” I say, hiccuping slightly as I push my empty glass towards him without meeting his eyes

“I think maybe you've had enough love don't you?” He asks

“Erm, I think that's up to me to decide thanks. Gees, What is it with you men? Always thinking you can boss us women around huh? So what if I've had a few drinks! I'm twenty-two years old, I can drink if I want to!” I shout at him, thoroughly pissed off with men trying to tell me what I should or should not be doing. Ahh there's Novak again, rearing his ugly pervert head in my minds eye. Damn you barkeep.

“Sorry mate but I'm cutting you off. Want me to call you and your friend a cab?” he replies taking my glass and placing it on the counter behind him. 

“Urgh no! I am quite capable of finding my own cab thank you!” I huff back at him, I've really had just about all I can take of sodding men trying to order me around. 

As glance up, and as his face swims into focus, I meet his gaze for the first time and all the fire from thirty seconds ago rushes out of me as I catch sight of the concerned look in his boring blue eyes, maybe this guy is just trying to be nice, I think to myself. Just like Harry was just trying to be nice... and I yelled at him too. What's wrong with me? I need some air.

The minute I walk outside and gulp in the fresh, cool night air, all the alcohol that I have consumed tonight seems to hit me like a ton of bricks, I suddenly feel incredibly drunk, more drunk than I think I have ever been. Shit. Stumbling forwards, I place a hand on each table that I pass to steady myself and make my way off the patio towards the road. It would be really helpful if the road would stop moving though. 

I just need some fresh air, walk it off Mads, walk it off. I mumble to myself as I make my way on to the pavement. I have no clue where I am, but that thought doesn't even register in my brain as I turn and start walking in the direction of the ocean, I can hear the waves crashing against the rocks and the sound calls to me, telling me to follow it, so I do.

By the time I finally find the source of the sound my feet are killing me, so I sit myself down heavily on one of the many large boulders and pull off my heels, letting my feet dangle into the dark swirling water below, a few street lamps illuminate the view in front of me and I stare out at the sea, it seems to stretch on forever and I have an overwhelming desire to hop in and go for a swim.

Yes! That's a brilliant idea! A swim! That'll make me feel better! Oooh I wonder if Harry wants to come and have a swim with me! I bet he'd like that, he likes to swim.. he swam all that time in France after all. I'll call him.

“Maddie?” Harry's voice is hoarse and croaky, like I've woken him up or something when he answers his phone

“Harry! Would you like to come for a swim?” I blurt out the minute he answers

“Err what? Maddie, it's like... 4am” he informs me, as if I don't already know that.

“So what? Last night at 4am we were shooting little computer generated people. Tonight I thought we could swim. I don't see a problem.” I say totally confused as to why he isn't more enthusiastic about this exceedingly good plan of mine.

“I think maybe you should go to bed Maddie, it's late and we've got to fly to Melbourne tomorrow remember” Harry says, clearing his throat, seems he's waking up a bit more now, maybe he'll finally stop being annoying and come for a swim.

“I don't think I want to think about metal Pringle tubes right now thank you Mr Styles” I say giggling, using the nickname I insisted on calling him for the first few days that I knew him

“Are you in the hotel pool? I didn't even know this hotel had a pool...” Harry asks me 

“Ha! Of course I'm not in the hotel! I'm at the beach!” I tell him gleefully

“What? Maddie, where are you? Have you been drinking?” Harry asks, suddenly sounding very awake and far too serious for my liking.

“Why do all you men think I shouldn't be allowed to have a drink? Hmm?? Is there some kind of law which I don't know about which says Maddie's aren't allowed to have any fun? Yes we were drinking, and then Freddie turned up and was all... grinding up on Sammy, so I went to have more drinking... drink.. another drink..” damn why won't my words work? “Until that stupid bar man person with the boring blue eyes refused to serve me any more! So rude! And then I wanted to go to the beach. So I did. And now I would like to swim. I'm gonna go do that now” I tell him, bored with his tone and this conversation, I go to hang up the call but as I pull the phone away from my ear I can hear him calling my name, loudly, the sound hurts my head. 

“Maddie wait, wait! Please tell me where you are, I'll come have a swim with you” Harry says and my mood lifts considerably, finally!

“Hehe I already told you silly! I'm at the beach”

“And which beach would that be Trouble? The one by the hotel?” he asks, oh dear. Now that's an interesting question. Which beach am I at? I struggle to try and remember the name of the club I left Sammy and Freddie in, but nothing comes to mind other than an image of a blurry fluorescent sign which I can't quite make out.

“I don't know Harry” I whisper quietly, all of the sudden this doesn't seem quite as fun as it did just a minute ago.

“Ok Maddie I need to you listen to me ok? Can you put me on speaker phone?”

I do as he asks, nodding down at the phone to confirm that I've followed his instructions

“Maddie?” his voice sounds almost scared now as it booms loudly from my phone speaker.

“Ssshhh you're very loud. Hehe.” I giggle “Yeeees Mr Styles? I nodded! Didn't you see me? You really should pay more attention you know” I tell him, swaying slightly on the rock as a large wave breaks at my feet.

“We're on the phone Maddie, I can't see you.” Harry sighs “Look you have Whatsapp right? I want you to open a new chat with me and send me your location ok? I'll come and find you”

“So we can have a swim?” I ask him happily

“Sure Trouble. Just, wait for me to get there first ok? And don't go wandering off anywhere, it's going to take me a little while to get over to you”

“Harry...”

“Yes Maddie”

“I don't feel so good” I admit, as the world starts to spin slightly and the swirling water at my feet makes my stomach churn

“Just sit tight trouble, I'll be there soon.!” Harry reassures me, and I hang up the call, placing my phone down on the rock next to me, I decide the best thing for me to do right now is have a sleep. That will make me feel much better, then when Harry gets here, we can go for our swim! I'm full of wonderful ideas tonight, I mentally pat myself on the back as I lie down on a smooth patch of rock and curl myself into a ball to get some rest, the sound of the waves hitting the rocks around me soothing me to sleep.


End file.
